


The Fourth Year

by Amuly



Series: Gwil's Guide to Growing Up Torchwood [5]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-16
Updated: 2011-06-13
Packaged: 2017-11-04 01:40:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/388255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amuly/pseuds/Amuly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The night before Jack and Ianto's wedding day, both men decide to get some questions answered.</p>
          </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night before Jack and Ianto's wedding day, both men decide to get some questions answered.

With Gwil successfully tucked in for the night and all the pre-wedding chores taken care of, Ianto finally slid into bed at the end of the day. He sighed, lying back against the pillows and drawing the blankets up around him. Even a small, private wedding ceremony was a lot to organize. There were the meals and seating charts and registrars and music and drinks to sort out, not to mention wrangling Jack and Gwil into tailor-made suits. Gwil was the easier of the two to get through the process, though Ianto had to admit, Jack hadn't been a _chore_ – he would never call getting blown in the dressing room a _chore_. But he had certainly managed to elongate the experience more than it might have been.

But now everything was set, the Rift monitor was showing little to no activity for tomorrow – touch wood – and Ianto was  _done_ until he got up and showered tomorrow morning.

Just as he started to let his eyes drift closed, the bedroom door opened and shut, a flash of brightness from the kitchen stovetop light nearly blinding him. Jack padded in on bare feet, shucking his clothes as he went and slipping into bed with Ianto once he was fully starkers.

“Hello, husband-to-be.” 

Ianto smiled, turning into Jack with a sleepy sigh. “'lo,” he mumbled back. Jack leaned in and Ianto pursed his lips on instinct, accepting the kiss even as he let his eyes drift shut again. “And good night.”

Next to him, Ianto felt Jack shift in position. The next moment Jack's heavy, warm thigh was being thrown over Ianto's own, and Jack was reeling them closer together. “Hey, hey now.” Jack's big hand rubbed up and down Ianto's backside, kneading and squeezing the flesh there. Ianto sighed happily and canted into the touch, though his body was more interested in the soothing relaxation of the massage rather than any eroticism in it.

Just as he started to drift off again, Ianto felt Jack's mouth at his throat, hip rutting gently against his thigh. Jack's voice was muffled as he spoke, lips pressing the words into Ianto's skin. “I thought we could fly in the face of tradition. Have a little pre-marital relation.”

Ianto smiled, eyes still firmly shut. “What do you call the mutual handjob in the shower this morning? Or the sex last night? Or every other night we've known each other?”

“But it wasn't the night before the wedding.” Jack exaggerating the whine in his voice had Ianto smiling, much against his own better instincts. Sure enough, Jack pounced on that smile, squeezing Ianto's flesh even more firmly in his hand. “You know you want to.” His voice had taken on a lustier tone: more growly and seductive. Ianto felt his body stir, much against his own will and exhausted mind. Jack obviously noticed Ianto's interest, pressing his hips more firmly against Ianto's and grinding them slowly together. “See? Come on: you know they _say_ the sex is terrible after you get married. That makes this our last chance for really fantastic shagging.”

Ianto snorted, finally giving in and opening his eyes. “Really?” he deadpanned. “And who exactly are 'they'?”

Jack's answer was immediate. “Obviously not us.”

“Obviously.” To prove his point, Ianto grabbed the back of Jack's head and pulled him in for a scorching kiss, nipping and tonguing away any concerns over waning marital passions. Jack responded back just as eagerly, sucking air in through his nose as he melted into Ianto's kiss. 

“Do you want to top?”

Ianto thought about it for a moment, stroking a hand down Jack's smooth chest. It occurred to him that he had no idea if Jack was naturally that way, or had some sort of laser removal before his immortality, or even if he shaved it and had never told Ianto. He voiced his question to Jack, who laughed.

“Natural. Less hair on the fifty-first century humans. Engineered that way, I think: not naturally evolved. Why are you asking now?”

Ianto shrugged. “Never think to ask you these things. Most of the time I figure you wouldn't answer.”

Jack's hips slowed, then stilled against Ianto's. Afraid he had said something wrong, Ianto peered warily up at Jack. To his surprise, Jack was half-smiling down at him, curious look on his face. “Any other questions you want the answer to before we get married?” Jack's tone was teasing, but eyes serious. Ianto cocked his head as he considered. Before he could get a single question out, however, Jack continued. “But! I get to ask you questions, too. And you have to answer them.”

Ianto frowned. Well. That was an interesting, and potentially disastrous proposition. But Jack was promising an equal return, and Ianto would be lying if he said he wasn't curious about some things in Jack's past.

“Alright,” he agreed, two syllables drawn out slowly. “But only three questions apiece. I need my beauty sleep if I want the pictures to come out well tomorrow.”

Jack nodded, pressing a splayed hand to Ianto's chest and stroking his fingers slowly through his chest hair. “Not that you don't always look gorgeous, but deal.” Jack wriggled against Ianto, though this time was more childish excitement than the thrum of arousal. “I'm going first.” Ianto waited as Jack put on his very serious face and considered what he might ask. His face lit up, and he shifted his arm to squeeze lightly at Ianto's semi-hard penis. “What was your first gay experience?”

Ianto felt his face flush, glancing down as Jack's grin broadened at the sight. “I suppose I have to tell the truth?” he grumbled.

Jack's nod was quite serious. “Can't go lying to me the night before our wedding. I don't know a lot of your superstitions, but that's  _gotta_ be a bad way to start a marriage.”

“Figured as much,” Ianto groaned. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes as he recounted the tale. “Fourteen. Boy's name was Ryan. Murphy. Irish, but his family had just moved to Wales.” Ianto chanced opening one eye for a glance at Jack's expression. He was beaming. 

“Red head? Freckles?”

Ianto shook his head. “Brunette. Green eyes. Pretty, and the accent was...” he flushed. “Not that I'm placing it above Welsh. But. Well.” He shrugged. “We were chatting about some girl after school one day at his house: can't even remember who. He had a dirty magazine and we were looking at it together on his bed. We both got hard, and, well...” he quirked an eyebrow at Jack, who was listening with avid interest. “We decided to lend each other a helping hand, as it were.”

Ianto found himself the recipient of a kiss as he finished his story. When they pulled apart, Ianto stroked a hand over Jack's chest, rubbing his thumb over Jack's nipple as he considered his question. He decided to start off easy. “Best shag you ever had.”

Jack's answer was immediate: “Besides you?”

“Of course. That's understood,” Ianto deadpanned. He was rewarded with Jack's hand kneading at his arse.

“Well...” Jack considered the question carefully, eyes drifting past Ianto to the wall behind him. “There was a girl in my Time Agency class. Brilliant, brave...” he paused, eyes going back to Ianto's as he winked. “ _Tentacles_.” Ianto snorted, expecting that to be the end of it. But then Jack continued. “She was the first woman I ever loved.”

Ianto's inhalation was sharp and embarrassing. The second he breathed in he knew that he shouldn't have, that he shouldn't have acknowledged the shock of Jack's admission. But Jack was stroking his back slowly, reassuringly, and Ianto realized that he wasn't out of place to be surprised by it. Jack had told him this for a reason, after all. It was the night before their wedding. 

He cleared his throat, not looking at Jack. “Your turn,” he suggested lightly.

Jack was quiet for long enough for Ianto's worries to begin afresh, but then he cleared his throat, whispering softly: “How'd you break your arm?”

Ianto winced. He should have known Jack had seen his complete medical records at some point or another in his years at Torchwood. Jack had probably seen him the day after their first meeting, when Jack had looked him up. But he had never asked about it until now. “Fell off a swing when I was a child.” Ianto tried to keep his tone casual, light. “Swung too high. Foolish.”

Jack's fingers twisted in Ianto's chest hair, tugging in gentle reproach. “If I talked to Rhiannon, would she say you thought differently?”

There was no getting around it. Jack must have already known: he just wanted Ianto to say it himself. “Tad pushed me too high. He wasn't very good at... nurturing.”

Jack's grip loosened in Ianto's chest hair, before he bent his head and pressed a kiss to where his had had just been. “Thank you,” Jack murmured into the skin and hair there. “And for the record, I'm pretty sure you sweat nurturing, you've got so much of it in you.”

Ianto flushed. Neither of them ever really talked about their families, and that was how Ianto preferred it. But it was no small wonder that Jack had picked up on his insecurities over his fatherly instincts over the past three years, and it was nice to hear the reassurance. “My turn, then,” Ianto rushed ahead. He paused, thinking for a moment. Jack's questioning had taken a turn for the more intimate, so Ianto thought it might be safe to follow suit. “What are your instructions on Grey's chryo?”

Jack's answer was almost instantaneous: “You could look it up yourself.”

Ianto's reply was even more so: “But I haven't.”

As Jack stayed silent, their intermingling breaths loud in the quiet of their bedroom, Ianto reached a hand up and stroked lightly down Jack's arm, feeling the firm skin and firmer muscles play beneath his finger pads. When Jack did eventually speak, his voice was no more than a whisper, and dull as a church bell. “In event of chryo failure, he is to be eliminated. Baring an event, he is to be kept for ten millenia, after which date he is to be eliminated. If I don't come and get him.” Jack's voice cracked on the last sentence.

Imitating Jack's earlier reassure to him, Ianto scooted forward and pressed a kiss to Jack's shoulder, lips lingering over the smooth skin there. “Thank you.”

Jack's final question was immediate, as if he were trying to get off the subject of himself and his sociopathic brother as quickly as possible. It was something else Ianto and Jack had in common: both never spoke about their pasts unless prompted. At least, never seriously. “When was the last time you visited your mom?”

Ianto's hand stopped cold over Jack's skin. For a moment he wasn't sure how to react. Did Jack _know_ about his mam? About where she was? Maybe he was reading too much into Jack's question. Jack would know his mam was alive because there'd be no death certificate. He could assume Ianto was estranged from her the way he had been Rhiannon and the rest of the family. Maybe _that_ was all Jack was asking about.

But Ianto knew. From Jack's tone of voice, he  _knew_ Jack knew where his mam was. What her state was.

Ianto tried to roll away from Jack, to pull away and shut his eyes against the question. This had been a stupid idea: asking each other questions about themselves. This was why they never talked about these kinds of maters; it could only lead to heartache and trouble. 

But then Jack's arms were wrapping tight around him, tugging Ianto close to his chest and refusing to let him move. “Ianto. Ianto, come here. Come here.” Ianto let himself be pulled, closing his eyes as he pressed his face to Jack's neck. “You don't have to answer if you don't want to,” he continued. “Sorry. I shouldn't have asked.”

“No.” Ianto took a breath, steadying himself as he pulled away from Jack's neck so he could look him in the eyes. “No. I can...” Ianto stopped, pressing his lips tight together before he replied. “Four years ago. Just after the Night Travelers.”

Jack nodded. “I thought so. Tracked your car when you left that evening after we had closed the case. Figured you weren't going back to visit Christina.”

Ianto should probably be angry at the invasion of his privacy, but his lack of surprise made it hard to muster anger.

“Before that?”

Ianto frowned. That sounded suspiciously like two questions, but he let Jack get away with it. “Ten years. Before I left for London.”

“You never visited her when you came back?”

“I was busy.” It was a tense moment between the two of them when not even a mention of Lisa made the tension between them any thicker. 

“You should-”

“No point,” Ianto interrupted Jack. “She's catatonic. I'd just be talking to myself for an hour. And with your listening skills, I get enough of that already.”

Jack sighed and stroked a hand through Ianto's hair, thumb drifting down to tease at his jawline. “Sorry.”

“Yeah, well,” Ianto shrugged. “My turn, then?” Ianto asked the question that had first risen to his mind when Jack had suggested this little game, but been too afraid to. But if Jack was going to ask about his mam and his broken arm, and didn't leave him in favor of a rooftop the moment Grey's name was mentioned, then Ianto thought that just maybe Jack would be able to answer it. “Will you go back to the Doctor?”

Jack's eyes went wide, then soft and sad. His hand gripped more tightly at Ianto's cheek. “Never. Ianto, I'm here with you and Gwil. I'd never leave you-”

“I don't mean now.” Ianto hadn't considered that Jack might take the question as a reflection of Ianto's leftover insecurities from the Year That Never Was (The Year That Ianto Couldn't Remember). He knew Jack wouldn't leave them again – at least, not permanently. He had already proven that when they were battling the daleks: Jack might run off to save the world with the Doctor, but he'd always come back. And sooner rather than later, so far as he could help it. “After I die. After Gwil dies. Some time in the future, after us humans have acclimated to aliens and Torchwood becomes just another part of British bureaucracy. Will you go with him again? Travel on the TARDIS and fight the good fight? Be a 'Companion' once more?”

To Ianto's surprise, Jack started shaking his head halfway through the question and didn't stop until the end. “No. I thought...” Jack paused, then shook his head again. “No. We're not right for each other anymore. The Doctor needs someone fresh and awestruck, someone to be amazed by the universe, and to call him out when his methods are too extreme, to put things in perspective for him. He and I...” Jack grinned weakly at Ianto in the dim light of their bedroom. “We're too much alike. We both need someone to balance us, and we can't be that for each other.”

Ianto let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. He didn't know why the idea of Jack flying around with the Doctor after his and Gwil's deaths bothered him so much, but it did. Like Jack said: the Doctor wasn't right for Jack. Not anymore. And Ianto didn't want Jack getting hurt again – especially when he wasn't around to pick up the pieces. 

“I'm sure we'll run into each other,” Jack continued, musing to himself as his fingers traced lines over Ianto's neck. “Maybe save the universe the odd time or two. But no: I'll never be one of his live-in companions again.”

Jack's fingers on Ianto's neck grew less absent and more teasing, slow smile spreading across his face as his eyes darted back and forth over Ianto's face. “That's three.” He grinned even more. “So: ready to shove two fingers in tradition's face and have some pre-marital sex?”

Ianto groaned, rolling away from Jack and onto his back. When Jack pouted and whined, nudging his face against Ianto's neck like a sad puppy, Ianto laughed and shucked the duvet off him. “Alright, Jack. Alright.” Yanking his pants off, Ianto spread his arms and legs out wide and nodded at his flaccid penis. “Get on.”

They both laughed as Jack pounced, grabbing for the lube and working Ianto up into full arousal with hands and mouth and tongue. Afterwards, when they were both sweaty and sated, wrapped up in each other's arms, Jack pressed a kiss to Ianto's hairline. Ianto kept his eyes closed as Jack whispered against his forehead, focusing on the feel of Jack's lips moving against his skin. “You know you can ask me anything. Anytime. Don't be afraid to.”

Curled up where he was in Jack's tight embrace, warm and fuzzy in the afterglow of his orgasm, Ianto could almost believe Jack's promise. “I'll keep it in mind.” With that, Ianto let himself drift to sleep, anxieties over tomorrow's ceremony temporarily put out of his mind.  
  
  
  


 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ianto's perfectly planned wedding is interrupted by a guest who didn't exactly RSVP.

Ianto breathed deep, resisting the urge to rock nervously on the balls of his feet. He glanced to the man standing next to him, looking positively stunning and ridiculously handsome in his suit. Jack smiled back.

_Ready_ ? Jack mouthed at him. Ianto nodded curtly, before flashing what he thought was a reassuring smile. He wasn't nervous. He wasn't. Well: he might be nervous about the Rift blowing up in their face, or something going terribly wrong with the ceremony as Torchwood weddings were wont to do, but he certainly wasn't nervous about marrying Jack. Of course not.

Ianto rocked back and forth again.

In the small room at the registrar's office were the entirety of the Torchwood wedding party. On Ianto's side was Rhiannon, Johnny, and David. Mischa was in the back with Gwil, waiting to come in as flower girl and ring bearer respectively. Rhiannon was already crying, dabbing the corner of her eyes with a hankie and clutching Johnny's arm in a steel grip. There had been some argument over whose side Gwen, Rhys, Tosh, and Owen would sit. Ultimately it was decided that they could split it down the middle: Gwen and Rhys (with baby Braith cradled in Gwen's arms) on Jack's side of the room, Tosh and Owen on Ianto's side. Andy had also opted to stay on Ianto's side, citing something about the Welsh sticking together.

On Jack's side, sitting alongside Gwen and Rhys were Martha and Mickey, dressed to the nines. Martha even had an oversized, ridiculous hat gracing her head: “If I can't wear it now when  _else_ will I have the chance?!”. Alice and Steven were conspicuously absent – Ianto had actually tried one last chance at getting them to come by driving down to Alice's home himself. He found the door promptly slammed in his face the moment he introduced himself, followed by a shouted “He'll hurt you! He always does!” as a parting gift from Alice through the door. He hadn't told Jack about his attempt.

The music started, and Jack and Ianto turned to the doors as they opened. Mischa and Gwil scrambled in: Mischa throwing flower petals all around as she sashayed down the aisle in her pretty dress; Gwil looking quite serious in his little suit, complete with properly folded pocket square and matching red silk tie. His curly hair was temporarily smoothed back with a handful of styling gel, though bits of it were already trying to escape the attempt at order.

When Mischa reached the front of the room, she dumped the remainder of her flower petals at Jack and Ianto's feet, then hurried over to her mom, empty basket swinging wildly in her hand. Ianto frowned down at the mess, but his attention was quickly drawn away from it by Gwil, who was holding his hand up for Ianto to hold. Ianto took it, squeezing it tightly as Gwil beamed up at him. On his left side, Jack took Gwil's other hand as the registrar began the ceremony.

Ianto had gone over every bit of the ceremony himself, making it short and to the point – and without any “'til death do us part”s to spoil the mood. It  _should_ have taken about fifteen minutes, start to finish: after which, they had a lovely reception planned at a local restaurant, where they had rented out the back room. Simple, easy, basic wedding. Not much room for anything to go wrong. 

Just as the registrar was getting to the bit where Jack and Ianto were supposed to say their “I do”s, Ianto realized that he should have touched wood. God forbid a Torchwood ceremony go off without a hitch. A whirring noise filled the air like the grinding of a spaceship whose parking brakes were on. Jack, Martha, and Mickey's heads whipped up immediately, scanning the room with childlike enthusiasm.

“Did you invite him?” Jack asked Martha, hope flickering across his face. Ianto felt his stomach start to drop.

Martha's expression was one of utter confusion as she looked around the room for the distinctive blue box. Mickey was out of his seat and racing to the door, peering out into the hall. “No!” Martha turned to Jack. “I couldn't get in contact with him! He lost my phone, I think.”

Mickey was cocking his head at the doorway, before turning back into the room. “And his face. He's got a new one!” Jack's eyebrows shot up to his hairline before he released Gwil's hand and raced over to Mickey. Ianto felt his stomach slam down to the floor as it completed its drop. This wasn't going to be good. Where the Doctor went, trouble followed. And Ianto did _not_ need the Doctor's particular brand of trouble on his wedding day. 

Andy was shifting in his seat, turning to Tosh and Owen. “Wait... this is that alien bloke? The one in the Police Box that's always saving the world? That Martha and Mickey used to travel with?”

Tosh confirmed this. “Yes. I met him twice: once in London, once when we were saving the world from the Daleks. He's quite pleasant, if a bit... mad scientist-y.”

Rhiannon and Johnny appeared to be doing their best to appear as though they were used to this sort of thing, though Rhiannon's grip on Mischa's shoulder all too obviously revealed her actual insecurities over the whole affair.

“Doctor!” Jack's shout boomed through the room and probably down the hall. “ _Nice_ hair! Don't know if I'm loving the bow tie, though.”

A moment later the man himself stepped through the door, pushing Jack aside with an absentminded arm. “Shut it, Jack. Bow ties are cool.” He was staring down at a little metal device in his hand which was glowing green and making an odd little buzzing noise.  _Sonic screwdriver_ , Ianto's archivist mind supplied. 

“So did you hear about the wedding? We tried to send you an invite, but-”

“What wedding?” The young man – because he was surprisingly _young_ , in this incarnation – was staring intently down at his sonic screwdriver, sweeping it in a slow grid across the room. “Whose wedding?” The Doctor paused, glancing away from his sonic for just long enough to level Jack with a shocked stare. “It's not _your_ wedding, is it?”

Jack rubbed the back of his head a bit sheepishly. Ianto took this as his cue to step forward, pushing Gwil behind him. Not that he didn't believe the Doctor was good... just things tended to go  _wrong_ when he was around. And Ianto wasn't about to let that predilection for attracting mishaps happen around his son. “Hello. Ianto Jones. We've met once before.”

To Ianto's surprise – though it probably shouldn't have been, knowing what he did about the Doctor – the man leaned away from him, raking his eyes over him from head to foot. Then he whipped his sonic screwdriver in front of him and scanned Ianto with it, staring at the readings for just a second before clicking it shut. “It's not  _you_ ,” he mumbled to himself. “But you're  _close_ to it.”

Ianto's heart decided to move the opposite direction of his stomach and take up residence in his throat. Jack seemed relatively unconcerned, focusing his attention instead on the two new arrivals who were making their way through the door. “New Companions?” he shouted back at the Doctor as he made his way over to the young man and woman. “Oh, and  _gorgeous_ ones, too. Hey,” Jack held out his hand to the pretty redheaded woman, “I'm Captain Jack Harkness.”

“Just ignore him,” the Doctor shouted back over his shoulder to his companions as he continued to scan random pieces of the room with his screwdriver. “He's getting married, anyway. _Apparently_.”

Jack winked exaggeratedly at the man standing next to the woman. “Still. Doesn't mean we couldn't have some fun. You two married, then?”

The young man scooted closer to the redhead, wrapping his arm protectively around her. “Yes. Amy's my wife.”

For her part, Amy didn't seem all that put-off by Jack's attention. In fact, she took a step forward out of her husband's arm and sidled closer to Jack, sticking out a hand. “Why hello, Captain Jack. Just ignore Rory: he's the jealous type.”

Behind her, Rory stared up at the ceiling in what appeared to be a well-practiced look of exasperation. Ianto felt an abrupt and fierce kinship with the young man. 

Too late, Ianto realized that he had been distracted. Behind him sounded the unmistakable buzz of the Doctor's sonic screwdriver. He whirled around in time to see Gwil peering curiously up at the Doctor, who was reading the side of his sonic with a increasing look of panic on his face. Instinctively Ianto dropped down to his haunches – ignoring the wrinkles he was sure to be creating in his suit – and hugged Gwil close to his chest. 

Behind him, Ianto realized Jack had gone quiet: the whole room had, in fact. In the silence the Doctor pointed a single finger at Gwil and shouted: “What in great Gallifrey is  _he_ doing  _here_ ?!”   
  
  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NB: No spoilers from Doctor Who Series 6 while Eleven's in this fic: promise. So long as you've seen Series 5 you should be good.  
> 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor starts (emphasis on _starts_ ) to explain what the hell is going on.

Ianto's hand was perfectly steady as he served coffee and biscuits to the rather large group gathered around the Torchwood conference table. Rhiannon and her family had been sent home, but the entire Torchwood team plus the Doctor and his two companions were seated there. Gwil was standing with Ianto, hands drifting over and over again to his tad's trousers before he would snatch them away and clasp them behind his back. He followed Ianto around the table, unease evident as his eyes kept flickering over to the strange man in the bow tie seated on the far end of the table. Ianto did his best not to look at the man. He already had a sneaking suspicion as to what this was about. That _Doctor_ had already stolen one of his men away from him, even if he had eventually returned. He wasn't about to steal another.

“What is this? Coffee?” The Doctor sniffed at his mug, peering down into its rich chocolate-colored depths. He seemed unimpressed. 

“Ianto makes the best coffee in the universe,” Jack praised Ianto. His eyes were wary, though Ianto thought he saw more trust in them for the Doctor than he was entirely comfortable with. “Trust me: I'd know.”

Still looking rather skeptical, the Doctor pursed his lips and took a sip from the mug. His eyes lit up, and he took a longer gulp. “Hey!” he pointed at the mug as he took another gulp, mumbling around the porcelain. “This body  _likes_ coffee!”

Ianto definitely did  _not_ throw himself down in his seat at Jack's right hand. “Of course it has to do with the new body,” Ianto grumbled. “Nothing to do with the fact that it's  _my_ coffee.”

Jack's foot bumped his beneath the table in gentle reproach. Ianto turned away from him and focused instead on making sure that Gwil drank all his milk in the seat next to him.

Rory, seated on Amy's right side, held his mug up at Ianto and nodded at him. “This is good,” he complimented Ianto. “Sight better than the stuff they serve at the hospital.”

“You a doctor?” Owen twirled in his chair, legs splayed wide as he casually examined Rory.

Rory shook his head. “Nurse.” Owen's disinterest was immediate.

“Doctor.” Ianto found the word tasted sour in his mouth, and so heavy that he practically had to push it out with teeth and tongue. “Could we discuss the matter that brought you to our wedding?”

The Doctor giggled.  _Giggled_ . He scrunched his nose up and laughed in this flighty little way. Jack seemed just as shocked as Ianto, which seemed to indicate that this was a feature new to this particular incarnation. “I can't believe  _you're_ getting  _married_ , Jack! Funny.” He giggled again. He turned to Rory and Amy, tossing a thumb over his shoulder at Jack. “He traveled with me a couple bodies back. Tried to  _con_ me. Cheeky bugger. Incorrigible flirt-”

“Some things haven't changed,” Rhys piped up from his seat next to Gwen, bouncing Braith on his knee. Gwen had tried to make him go home when Ianto had sent Rhiannon and her lot on their way, but Rhys had refused. _“If it has to do with Gwil, it has to do with all of us. Including me.”_ And that had been the end of that. 

“Doctor.” The word still wasn't any easier for Ianto to say. “Please. Gwil is my- our son. Could you please explain what you believe is going on?”

“ _Your_ son?” The Doctor poked a biscuit at Ianto as he spoke, eyeing him up curiously. “Aren't you a bit young for a son? Actually, I'm terrible with human ages. Amy, Rory: is he too young for a son?”

Before the baffled Companions could answer Ianto cut in, tone sharper than he had meant it to be. “Well Jack's well over two millenia old so I imagine we average out.”

Rory's eyes widened to the size of saucers as he looked at Jack. Amy's did, too, but then reduced to normal size far more quickly, before turning sly. “Looking good,” she flirted. 

Jack winked back. “I find  _facials_ to be the secret to keeping the wrinkles at bay.” Just incase someone didn't get the joke, Jack turned to Ianto and winked. “Ianto's always happy to provide them.”

Personally, Ianto didn't find he had a lot to be happy about at the moment. His wedding had been interrupted, the Doctor was here, which meant trouble, and Gwil was apparently at the center of it all. Not the best of days: not by any measure. “ _Doctor_ .” Ianto's hands slammed down onto the table, rattling the china and causing the room to fall deathly silent. Beside him, even Gwil looked worriedly up at his tad. “ _Please_ .” Ianto fought to bring his voice back under control. “Tell me what is wrong with my son.”

Easing a biscuit back down to his plate, the Doctor wiggled his fingers in what appeared to be some sort of nervous apology. “Right.” He reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out his sonic screwdriver, peering down at it before sliding it across the table to Ianto. He caught it in one hand and brought it up to his face, trying his best to make heads or tails of it. “We've been picking up some strange readings from here. Paradox-y, time-y wime-y sort of readings. It  _seemed_ ,” the Doctor continued, warming up to the topic as his fingers drummed excitedly on the table, “that two pieces of time were smushing themselves together.” To illustrate, the Doctor interlocked his fingers and pressed his palms together, moving them against each other in dramatic fashion. 

Amy leaned over to the Doctor, stage-whispering: “We didn't know any of this...”

The Doctor whispered similarly back: “When I said  _we_ , I meant the TARDIS and I. You and Rory were in the back somewhere playing house.” Rory's blush was fierce, and he raised a finger to defend himself, when he seemed to remember that he didn't really have to. 

“So, two pieces of time, smushing together!” The Doctor slammed his palms together again. “There's _something_ drawing them together: something of Gwil's back in 1848, and him being here. The two pieces of Gwil are sucking the two years together, like two slices of cheese on the inside of pieces of bread sticking them together when you fry it.” The Doctor paused, considering his analogy. He then turned to Rory. “When was the last time we ate? I could go for a grilled cheese right about now.”

Rory ignored the Doctor, turning instead to Ianto and Gwil. He nodded gently at the little boy. “What... uh... what happened with his...” Rory wiggled his index finger.

Ianto laid a hand gently over Gwil's, drawing it off the table and into his lap. For his part, Gwil was staying very quiet and very serious, not one to be the center of attention, much less such heated discussion by a strange Doctor man. “He was a mill scavenger back in his time,” Ianto answered quietly. “Owen checked him over when he first came here. He was malnourished and suffering lung damage in addition to the missing finger.” Ianto's eyes rested on Gwil, taking in the preteen who was so much bigger and smarter and surer than the scared little bundle of rags they had found three years ago. “We've taken care of him.”

“Ah! _Fishfingers_!” The Doctor's shout brought the attention of the room away from Ianto and Gwil and back to the Doctor. He wiggled his index finger significantly, tracing circles in the air until he stopped it, pointing at Gwil. “Goes well with custard, but also grilled cheese, as it would seem in this case.”

Ianto opened his mouth, glanced at Jack, then closed it. Apparently this was just how the Doctor talked.

The Doctor continued, wiggling finger still pointing at Gwil as he crooked it madly. “Gwil wasn't supposed to come to the future, but he did. But he left a bit of himself in the past: namely, his  _finger_ . Now his finger is tethering him to that time and he's in this time and it's all  _sucking_ the two bits of time together like the stickiest cheese-and-fishfinger sandwich this side of the Rift!” 

The Doctor jumped up with a flourish, spinning around once before turning to Jack and jabbing his finger at him, leaning halfway across the table as he did so. Ianto noticed Amy carefully slide the coffee mug out of the Doctor's path of destructive energy. Jack was right: he and the Doctor were much too alike to be suitable companions for each other. Both needed others to look after them.

Ianto could hear Andy mutter under his breath: “Am I the only one who isn't catching this?”

Mickey reached over Martha and patted Andy on the arm. “It's alright, mate. None of us does.”

“Jack!”

Jack jumped to attention in his chair, eyes darting around the table, between Ianto and Gwil and the Doctor. “Yeah?”

The Doctor poked his roving finger down onto the table, prodding it back and forth between one point and the next. “Why haven't you caught any of this? The TARDIS picked up a... a thingy of blips...” he craned his neck back to Amy, still leaning over the table. “What did you call it?”

“A spreadsheet?” Amy offered. “At least, it looked like one. What we saw on the monitors.”

On the other side of the table, Tosh cleared her throat. “Excuse me? Doctor?”

The Doctor's wild eyes turned to Tosh. “Ah, yes. Toshiko. Something to add?”

Tosh slid her laptop over to the Doctor, nodding at it. “We've been collecting data on some strange Rift behavior we believed connected to Gwil. There's a ninety-six percent correlation between them and Gwil's school schedule. Nothing seems to come of them, but we were worried, just the same.”

The Doctor scrambled with the laptop, flipping through it and clacking away madly at the keys. As he worked, he absently queried: “You don't look at naughty videos on this, do you?”

Tosh's eyes widened behind her glasses, face turning red as Amy's hair. Next to her, Owen snickered, rocking himself delightedly back and forth in his seat. 

The Doctor waved an absent hand at Tosh as his eyes scanned through the data. “Last person whose laptop I looked at had naughty videos on it. Disgusting. All your flibbity bits.”

Behind him, Amy crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow. “Suppose you think River's 'flibbity bits' aren't so 'flibbity', now do you?”

Jack's eyes lit up, mouth falling open. The Doctor glanced up at him and their eyes met for a long moment, in some sort of silent contest of amusement and embarrassment. Eventually Jack's mouth closed without him saying a word, but he looked significantly over at Amy in a silent promise to pursue the matter later. 

“You say this has something to do with his school? Going to it, coming home, all that traveling?” The Doctor's eyes were focused back on Tosh's laptop screen, though Ianto could detect a certain amount of unease still in him with the mention of this River woman – which would have been interesting, given other circumstances. According to Jack the Doctor was always steadfastly asexual for as long as he knew him. But as it was, Ianto had a few issues just a bit more pressing on his mind. 

The Doctor's smile widened as he looked up from the laptop, and Ianto got the sense that he was going to say something he thought quite clever. “Well,” the Doctor shut the laptop with a click and slid it back to Toshiko as he straightened upright. “Then I think the question you need to be asking yourselves is: how does Gwil get to school?”

**

Jack and Ianto's atrium in their house beneath the Hub was a bit crowded for twelve adults, one child, and one baby to squeeze into, but somehow they managed with a small amount of spillover into the kitchen. The Doctor was stalking around the teleport, sonicing it from this angle and that as he tried to get a reading off it. At one point he shoved his screwdriver back into his inside jacket pocket and pressed his face up against one side of the teleport, rubbing his hand lovingly up and down. His tongue poked out and he licked it, causing all not-former or -current companions of the Doctor to stare at him in shock. The companions seemed to consider this business as usual.

Turning away from the teleporter at last, the Doctor slowly stalked toward Jack, rocking back on his heels as he did. “So when exactly did you decide it would be acceptable to use twenty-fifth century non-Earth technology for your son's daily commute to school?”

Jack shrugged. “It's not _that_ far off from what the humans are going to develop. We used one all the time when I was a kid for going to the market on weekends.”

“Yeah, well: this is Earth, not Boeshane.”

At Ianto's waist Gwil gasped, eyes darting from Jack to Ianto. “Tad?” he tugged urgently at Ianto's trousers.

“Later,” Ianto promised, running a hand through Gwil's curls. Jack and the Doctor didn't seem to notice Gwil's sudden newfound knowledge about his father, but Ianto glared at the Doctor all the same. He hadn't planned on having this conversation with Gwil for several more years, and it would have to come now, of all times. As if Gwil didn't have enough to confuse and frighten him right now.

Unaware – or uncaring – of the mental turmoil going on inside Gwil, the Doctor turned his gaze to the little boy, cocking his head and tapping his fingers together. His tone softened a little as he moved to Gwil, crouching down so he was level with him.

“Little human: Gwil.” Half-hidden behind Ianto's legs, Gwil peered nervously up at the Doctor. “Does anything funny happen when you go through the teleporter? Queasiness time displacement flashes of ulterior realities tingling sensations vomiting sickness passing out blacking out sneezing or the intense desire to stand on your head?” the Doctor finished in a rush.

To Ianto's great surprise, and everyone else's in the room besides the Doctor, Gwil nodded slowly. Looking up at his tad, Gwil addressed his response to him. “My scar tingles when I go through.”

Ianto gaped, ignoring the smug grin spreading across the Doctor's face. “Why didn't you tell me?”

Gwil shrugged one shoulder. “I didn't think it was bad. It didn't hurt. Just... tickled. Itched. But not bad. I thought it was okay.” Gwil's lower lip wibbled. “I'm sorry. I didn't know.”

Ianto dropped down to his haunches and hugged Gwil to him tightly, tucking Gwil's face into his chest. “It's not your fault,” he said, ignoring the rest of the adults in the room as he clutched his son to him. “And don't worry: your dad and I are going to fix this. Just like we fix everything else. It's going to be fine.”

“Doctor.” It was Jack that spoke, and Ianto noted with no small amount of pleasure that his voice had turned hard as he glanced between the Doctor and Gwil, expressed concern finally starting to match a tenth of what Ianto was feeling. “What do you think we should do?”

The Doctor paused for a moment, looking around the room: at Gwil, at the teleport, at Jack, Ianto, his former companions, and the rest of the Torchwood team. After a slow turn around the room he stopped, staring out into the kitchen as he thought.

Stepping away from her position pressed against a wall for a moment, Gwen pushed her way past Rhys and Andy. “But Doctor,” she smiled nervously as the Doctor turned to look at her. “The last time two pieces of time came together we saw bits of the past bubbling up in the days leading up to us having to send Tommy back. We haven't seen anything like that recently.”

The Doctor didn't respond for a moment, cocking his head and staring at Gwen curiously. “You're Gwen Cooper.” Gwen nodded. “I met your ancestor. You look just like her.”

Gwen seemed bemused by this news, but before she could reply the Doctor turned to Gwil and Ianto, leaning over as he peered down at them, still crouched together on the floor. “You two humans: you look alike, don't you?”

Jack spoke: “It's good Welsh breeding.”

“Uh-huh.” The Doctor didn't seem convinced, keeping one eye trained on Gwil and Ianto for a touch longer than Ianto was comfortable with. That man had an idea, and Ianto knew in his bones it wasn't one with any good conclusion foreseeable.

Abruptly the Doctor whirled back to Gwen, snapping his fingers. “Right! You were saying no bits of time floating through, bumping heads with your bits. But there wouldn't be: know why?”

The room remained silent in the half a second the Doctor paused before continuing.

“'Course you wouldn't know why, because you're all – most of you – twenty-first century humans. So, question for the _not_ twenty-first century humans in the room:” to Ianto's irritation, he saw Jack perk up, a spark of excitement in his eyes. The Doctor alludes to him and Jack is just ready to jump: some things never change. “How much time passes between stepping into a teleport and stepping out?”

“None.” The Doctor whirled around, eyes focusing on Tosh as she spoke up. “Well, that's my understanding of it, at least.” She shrugged sheepishly. “From what I've read, it appears to operate under the same principle as current-day quantum tunneling of photons, which means that it breaks the speed of light barrier by never actually having to accelerate, thus upholding Einstein's formulas concerning light-speed travel while at the same time allowing for instantaneous transference of atoms from one location to another.”

The Doctor was positively proud as he examined Tosh from head to foot. “That's right. So!” He turned back to the room at large. “If there's no time between travel, there's no time for the bits of the past to show up with bits of the future, or vice versa. Thus why you haven't seen anything. But!” He turned back to Tosh. “Pretty lady with the naughty-videos computer! Toshiko!”

Ill at ease with her new title – and Ianto didn't blame her, with the way Owen was grinning madly at it – Tosh stepped forward, laptop clutched to her chest. “Yes Doctor?”

The Doctor clapped his hands together, rubbing them vigorously. “We're going to do an experiment.” Turning, the Doctor's eyes sought out Gwil until he found him, clutching to Ianto's expensive wedding suit. He crooked his finger at Gwil, who just tightened his grip. Ianto didn't blame him, and wrapped a hand around his shoulder in reassurance. “Little human: Gwil. Come over here.” When Gwil didn't move, the Doctor frowned. “Please?”

Ianto hesitated, glancing up at Jack. He nodded once. Although Ianto didn't _want_ to trust Jack when it came to their son and the Doctor, he did. Jack would always try and do the right thing, and Ianto knew that he loved him and Gwil. So he pushed aside his own trepidations and turned to Gwil. “Go on, Gwil. Dad and I are right here. We promise nothing is going to hurt you.” 

With one last snuggle into Ianto's neck, Gwil turned out of his arms and went to the Doctor, peering up at him. The Doctor took Gwil by both shoulders and steered him toward the teleport. “Alright. Toshiko! Get that laptop ready. Gwil: just stay where I put you. Everyone else,” the Doctor turned to grin at the crowd gathered behind him, “watch this.”

The Doctor shoved Gwil into the teleport and held him there.

Ianto leapt forward as Gwil frowned and squirmed, half-in, half-out of the portal. But then Jack was at his side, holding onto Ianto's elbow. “It's okay. He's fine.”

The Doctor wasn't even looking at Gwil as he held him in place, but was instead trying to peer around to Tosh's laptop screen. “Well?” he asked, grin playing at the corners of his mouth. “What do you see?”

Toshiko gasped, one hand flying over the keyboard as the other held the laptop up. “The blips! They're... I have a location! Hang on, let me see if I can get a visual from the CCTV...”

There was more clicking of keys as the Doctor and the Torchwood team waited. Ianto's eyes were fixed on Gwil, who was still squirming uncomfortably inside the portal. “Tad?” Ianto tried to move forward again, but again Jack's gentle pressure on his elbow stopped him from taking more than a step forward. “Tad, my hand itches.”

“Just a moment more,” Ianto promised. He looked over at Tosh. “Tosh.”

She nodded frantically, hair bobbing around her chin as she worked. “I know, I know. Just a few more seconds...” Behind her glasses her eyes widened. Her head darted up from the laptop and over to Gwil. “Pull him out!”

The Doctor did as he was told, yanking Gwil from the teleport. The little boy's hand went to his other immediately, scratching at the old scar. Ianto saw it was pink and irritated before he started scratching it. Just one more strange thing to add to the list. He held out his hand, tugging Gwil to him. Jack intervened and scooped Gwil up into his arms, holding him close as both men turned to Tosh.

“Well?” The Doctor asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I was right, wasn't I? Something happened.”

Tosh nodded, biting her lower lip as she continued to stare at her laptop screen. “You could say that,” she mumbled. “It's...” she looked at Gwil, eyes going teary as she turned the laptop around. “I'm sorry,” she apologized. “It appears to be a textile mill. Circa eighteen forty-eight.”  
  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything gets explained; possible solutions put forth.

Jack watched as Ianto shut Gwil's door with a quiet click, face pressed to the gap between doorjamb and door as long as possible to watch Gwil's nervous face peer over at him from beneath the covers until the last second. Jack waited as Ianto stayed there, holding onto the door handle with one hand, the other pressed gently against the wood, for a moment as he breathed. Just breathed. In and out.

When he turned around Jack was there, face drawn tight as he watched Ianto. “They're upstairs in the conference room.”

Ianto nodded. His eyes darted over Jack's face, as though looking for some kind of reassurance, some kind of certainty that everything was going to be alright. Jack knew Ianto needed him to be confident, to somehow just know, like he always did, that everything would be alright. Because it hadn't been alright so many times in his and Ianto's past, and he couldn't just blindly trust that fate would treat them kindly. If anything, he expected that cruel bitch to do her best to ruin his life at every turn.

The best Jack could give Ianto was worry, and concern, and a touch of blind faith. He could tell Ianto wasn't reassured by the way his face slowly fell. Jack knew it was because Ianto didn't have the same faith in the Doctor's decision-making abilities as he did.

“Alright.” Ianto squared his shoulders, tugging ineffectually at his wrinkled wedding suit. Jack saw a small moment of misery flash across Ianto's face as he did, and he almost reached out to reassure Ianto. The day wasn't supposed to go like this – in fact, it should have turned out almost one hundred and eighty degrees from how it ended up. But they had probably been fools to expect any differently. Ianto cleared his throat. “Best go make them some coffee. I'll put a take-away order in, as well. A handful of biscuits isn't exactly brain food, and I have a feeling we'll need a lot of that to sort this.”

Ianto made to move past Jack, but Jack stopped him with an arm wrapped around his waist. “Are you okay?”

Apparently that was the exact wrong thing to say. Ianto turned to Jack with cold, furious eyes. “Of course I'm not. Our son is at the center of some sort of temporal disturbance, and I don't know how it's going to turn out. Are you okay?”

Jack's mouth open and shut for a moment, before his eyes softened. “Ianto, of course... but it'll be okay. The Doctor will fix it.”

Ianto snorted. “Yeah. The Doctor will fix it. Excuse me if my faith in the Doctor isn't quite as unwavering. He really managed to 'fix' you right proper, didn't he? And when he let you be tortured for a year? Sure took his time 'fixing' things then!”

Jack's eyes hardened, and he tugged Ianto closer. “Then don't believe in him. But believe in me, Ianto: I'm not going to let anything harm our son. Anything. You'll trust in that, won't you?”

Sighing, Ianto leaned into Jack, nodding. “Okay, Jack. I'll trust you. Just... watch him. Yeah? Don't go blindly accepting everything he says. He might not be human, but he's no god, either.”

Jack swallowed as he hugged Ianto tight to him. He didn't want to promise not to trust the Doctor, because he did: of course he did. Ianto had just seen the few times when situations had gotten far out of the Doctor's hands, and then somehow blamed the Doctor for them. But the Doctor always tried to do what was right for the most amount of people, and he'd do his best to do the same in this situation. “Come on.” Jack rubbed Ianto's back before pulling away and looking him in the eye. “Let's go figure out what we're going to do to keep our son safe.”

**

They were gathered around the conference table again. Ianto had left Jack for a moment to go order some food for the large group. As Jack sat down at the head of the table, the door to the room opened and Ianto came in, stopping at Andy's chair to have a word with the young man. Andy nodded as Ianto spoke into his ear, then stood up and hurried out of the room. Ianto slid into his seat next to Jack's without a word.

“Okay!” Jack clapped his hands together and turned in his seat toward the Doctor. “So. First order of business is figuring out exactly what's going on. Second order is fixing it.”

The Doctor pushed himself up from his seat with a flourish, spinning around before wiggling his fingers absently. Jack watched as the young man – so different from the grouchy man in a leather jacket he first met on a cold night in 1941 all those years ago – gathered his thoughts, glancing slowly around the room as he did.

“Right. Well.”

Gwen raised her hand hesitantly, glancing between Jack and the Doctor. “Well first we have to figure out why it's Gwil pulling the two pieces of time together, right?”

“Yes, that is the million-pound question, isn't it? Why is this little human the fishfingers in the cheese sucking the two slices of time-bread together?” Before the Doctor could continue his musings, Owen spoke up.

“Well it's because his finger's back in the mill, innit? So then the solution is to stick him in the teleport, grab the finger when it appears with the mill, done. Problem solved.”

The Doctor was shaking his head almost the moment Owen started speaking. Jack agreed with the Doctor. A single finger left in another time shouldn't cause these sort of paradox-based symptoms that they were seeing. Goodness knows he had left bits and pieces of himself all over time and space, and it had never caused such problems before.

“I think the mill coming through and the teleport blips are just a symptom,” the Doctor countered.

“So the disease is the fact that Gwil is in the present?” Martha asked. “And all the grilled cheese fishfinger stickiness is just a result of some other major paradox?”

“Sure, if that helps you understand it,” the Doctor waved Martha's attempt to understand his analogies away. “Except nothing like that at all.”

Jack grinned at the Doctor's eccentrics, but quickly stifled it as he saw Ianto frown and shift uneasily in his seat.

“The disease,” the Doctor smirked at Martha, “if that's what you want to call it, is caused by Gwil being in the present.” Next to Jack, Ianto started forward. Jack laid a hand gently on his forearm. The muscles beneath Jack's hand twitched and skin twisted, but Ianto remained seated. Jack continued to watch the Doctor. The man had a plan – he knew it.

“Doctor.” The word was obviously said through gritted teeth as Ianto spoke up. “But _why_? How is it a paradox that Gwil is in the present?”

The Doctor turned to Martha, hands crossed over his chest. “Are those results in yet?”

Martha blinked and reached for her PDA. “Oh! Right.”

She fiddled for it a moment, while Ianto leaned over to Jack. “What results?” he hissed. Jack just shrugged. He didn't know any more than Ianto did.

Martha's eyes went wide as she looked down at her PDA, then apologetic as she looked up at Jack and Ianto. “Oh,” she whispered. “Oh, Jack, Ianto: I'm so sorry.”

Jack felt Ianto go impossibly tense beneath his hand, while the Doctor rocked on his heels with a grin on his face. “I was right, wasn't I?” the Doctor prodded. “I got it right.”

Sadly Martha nodd, passing her PDA across the table to the Doctor. Rory snatched it up, glancing quickly over the results before letting the Doctor take it from his limp hand, face shocked. He glanced over at Jack and Ianto, and Jack felt his nervousness increase when he saw sympathy etched across Rory's features.

The Doctor, meanwhile, was spinning around with the PDA clutched in his hands. “Aha! I love it when I guess right.” He turned to Amy and laughed. “A lot better than those times when it takes me six guesses before I get it, huh?”

Ianto spoke again, in that teeth-clenching tone of voice. “Doctor,” he grunted. “What is wrong with my son?”

“Not your son!” The Doctor tossed the PDA carelessly toward Ianto who caught it deftly in the hand not being held down by Jack's. “Not your son. Little one is your great great great grandfather. With a handful more greats thrown in there.” Ianto was staring down at the PDA, face ashen. Jack froze, hand still clenched around Ianto's forearm. “And since he didn't have a chance to find your great great however many greats grandmother and have your great great great minus one great grandfather before he got sucked through the Rift, all of space and time are starting to get smushed together and collapse.” The Doctor paused for a moment in his explanation, considering. “I imagine the symptoms will get worse as the little one starts puberty and draw closer to the age when he historically... _did the deed_.”

The panic in Jack's chest hadn't quite risen to attack levels, yet. Because the Doctor had a solution – other than the obvious. He had a way to fix this. He always did. Next to him, Ianto didn't seem to have the handle on his panic that Jack did. His eyes were squeezed shut, face turned away from the PDA as though if he didn't look at it, it wouldn't be true.

The door to the conference room opened and Andy entered, arms heavy with bags and boxes of take-away. He glanced around the room, obviously picking up on the tension and hesitating as he entered.

Jack took a breath and turned to the Doctor, cautious smile forced onto his face. “What's the solution?”

“Well that's easy, isn't it?” The Doctor glanced around the room, looking for faces in agreement with him. “Just pop the little one back to the time he belongs in. Problem solved.”

With that, Ianto stood up from the conference table and left, letting the door slam shut behind him. Jack scrambled to follow him only a moment later.

**

“Ianto-”

“ _No_ , Jack!”

Jack ran to catch up, following Ianto down the back stairs to their rooms. The door slammed shut behind them as Ianto hurried into the kitchen, where he spun around and started pacing. His eyes darted around the room, already red and wet with tears. Jack wanted to wrap Ianto up in his arms, tell him everything would be alright, but he knew the comfort would be unwelcome. So he stood, helplessly in their kitchen, hands shoved in his pockets as he waited on Ianto.

After several minutes of silent pacing, Ianto spun on Jack. “I won't do it.”

Jack nodded. “I know. I-”

“ _No_ , Jack! you're not listening. _I will not do this_. I _won't_ send him back to that life, to be a mill scavenger. Do you realize that his calluses are gone? He won't be able to do manual labor without serious injury. And he's too big to be a mill scavenger anymore. So what will he do? He doesn't have the natural muscles he would have developed in that life. He might be tall, but that will hinder more than help him in finding work. And he's educated. Do you realize how much of a problem that might be?”

Jack held out a placating hand as he stepped closer to Ianto. “I know, Ianto. I know. I know all of that. I _lived_ all of that, remember? And I won't send him back to that. We'll find a way around it. The Doctor-”

Jack found himself slammed back intot heir fridge, china rattling on the top as the entire thing shook. Ianto had his shirtfront gripped tight in his fist, eyes furious as they bore into Jack's. “ _No_ ,” he hissed. Jack felt himself cowering beneath the vehemence Ianto managed to infuse in that single word. “No, Jack. Not the _Doctor_. _We_ are going to fix this. _We_ are going to find a way to _protect our son_. He is staying here with _us_. Do you understand?”

Jack nodded slowly, placatingly. He tried lowering his hands to Ianto's forearms, but the other man just shoved himself away, pacing around their kitchen once more. “I know how you feel, Ianto. But he does what's right. He'll find a way-”

Ianto interrupted him, a mad gleam in his eye. “I'd die to protect Gwil, Jack. Do you realize that? I'd die. Gladly. Willingly. Would you?” Jack opened his mouth to agree, but Ianto cut him off, stalking forward to pin Jack to the fridge again. But this time he managed it without touching Jack: the sheer force of his presence kept Jack feeling like a butterfly on a board. “And I mean  _really_ die, Jack. Because if you  _don't_ find a way to protect Gwil, to keep him here, with us: I will  _find_ a way to kill you, Jack. And God help me, Jack Harkness,  _I will make it stick_ .”

Looking into Ianto's eyes in that moment, Jack knew he'd make good on his threat. Whether he found a way to make death permanent or just contain Jack for the rest of his long, long life, Jack knew Ianto would find a way. And Jack didn't much like the idea of frying to death at the center of a neutron star over and over again until the last of the stars went out, or being ripped apart in the singularity of a black hole for the rest of eternity. And he certainly didn't like the idea of sending Gwil back to his own time any more.

“I love you.” Jack tried a different tact. “And I love Gwil.” Ianto seemed to relax, just minutely, so Jack risked resting his hands on Ianto's shoulders. They weren't shrugged off. “And I – _we_ , you and I – will find a way around this. We will. Okay?”

Ianto seemed to finally believe Jack, and he sagged into his embrace, burying his face in Jack's neck. Jack reached a hand up to stroke his hair, making soothing noises as he pretended not to notice the hot tears falling to his neck. Jack assumed Ianto would pay him the same courtesy when he looked up and saw the tears tracking down his own face. “I won't marry you, either,” Ianto finally mumbled into Jack's neck. “If we can't fix this. I won't marry you.”

“Well now I better find a solution,” Jack managed to tease, even through his tears. “Dying sounds unpleasant, but not being married to you?” Gentle Jack tugged Ianto away from his neck, where teary-eyes met teary-eyes. “Well that's just something I couldn't live with.”

Ianto managed a weak smile, before wiping his face and pulling away. “We need to start working. Researching. If what the Doctor said was true, we still have a couple of years. And I can drive Gwil to school, and avoid the teleport. It should give us some time to find a way around it.”

Reaching a hand up, Jack wiped at Ianto's cheek, brushing away the tears still glistening there. Ianto pressed his lips together, putting on a brave face. “If anyone is going to find a solution, it's you.” Ianto smiled at Jack's words. “And you've got us to help. We'll find a way. After all: we're Torchwood.”

Ianto nodded and made to move past Jack, heading in the direction of the stairs to the Hub. But Jack stopped him, gripping Ianto's shoulders and steering him to one of the kitchen chairs until Ianto acquiesced and sat down. “But you're not going to find the solution tonight,” Jack cautioned. “Let me get some food for you, send everyone home, and then we can sleep on this. Trust me,” Jack bent down and pressed a kiss to Ianto's hair, “if there's one thing all my years have taught me, it's that everything looks better in the morning.”

Ianto nodded, resting his head in his hands, slumped over the kitchen table. As Jack started out of their rooms, he turned and stared back at the young man hunched over in the dim light of their kitchen. Jack had to protect their son. If not for himself, or for Gwil, then for Ianto.  
  
  



	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ianto finds a solution; Jack follows his instructions. The Doctor is not amused.

Jack eyed the vial Ianto was holding out to him, steely blue eyes daring Jack to ask about it.

Never one to back down from a dare, Jack took the vial from Ianto's fingertips and eyed it. “What's this?”

With a casualness that belied the wreck Ianto had been for the past two weeks trying to find a solution – and keeping an eye on Gwil every _second_ of the day just to be sure the Doctor didn't snatch up his little boy and whisk him away, back to the eighteen hundreds – Ianto placed his hands on his hips. “Semen. Artificially manufactured from Gwil's DNA that we had on file. I illegally used archive item 264-6B.” Ianto's eyes were carefully devoid of emotion for the next sentence. “You're going to artificially inseminate my great-great-great-great-great grandmother with this.”

**

Jack scrubbed at his face, little vial of semen resting between him and Ianto on their kitchen table. They hadn't talked about it for two days: this option. Ianto's eyes were almost suspiciously dry, tonight, though Jack knew it was because Ianto had cried himself out weeks ago.

Just before Jack opened his mouth to ask Ianto again if he was sure, tiny footsteps started down their hallway. Jack shut his mouth, waiting for a curly mop of brown hair to pop around the hallway corner.

A moment later, Gwil appeared, tugging nervously at his pajama top. “Tad?” He turned to Ianto, as he had started doing more often in the past few weeks. Jack knew it was because Gwil was picking up on Ianto's fear, but it still stung, every time his little boy sought solace in Ianto and not him. Then again, the wound Jack felt probably wasn't because Ianto was getting more attention from Gwil, but because Gwil's subconscious choice brought to the forefront Jack's very real doubts on the whole debate. If all of time and space was about to be destroyed, he would return Gwil to the past. Maybe he'd go back with him, try and figure out a way to live with Gwil, to take care of him. But he'd send him back.

Ianto wouldn't. And Gwil somehow sensed that.

“You should be in bed,” Ianto reprimanded Gwil, even as he turned and held his arms out for his son. “It's a school night.”

Gwil hurried into Ianto's arms, cuddling close. “I just wanted a glass of water.”

With his eyes Ianto gestured to Jack, who stood up and got Gwil a glass of water from the fridge. He set it down quietly on the table in front of Ianto, who hadn't let go of Gwil yet. Jack watched as Gwil sipped at his water, curled up on Ianto's lap the whole time. When he was finished Ianto ushered him off to bed with a kiss to the forehead. Jack didn't miss the way Ianto's eyes stared off after Gwil long after his door had snicked shut again.

Ianto's voice startled Jack, cutting through the quiet. “It's our only option.”

“It's practically rape,” Jack cautioned. “Almost worse, because the girl won't be able to blame the pregnancy on rape without a memory of the event or bruises to show for it.”

Ianto's eyes were still trained after Gwil, down the hall. “I don't care.”

“She'll be socially ostracized. We're destroying her life.”

“There were plenty of single mothers in Wales a hundred years ago. They managed. Besides,” Ianto finally turned to Jack, eyes red-rimmed and exhausted. Jack's heart clenched. “Better her than Gwil.”

Jack sighed, leaning back in his chair. Morally it wasn't the best decision he had ever agreed to. But Ianto would fall to pieces if Gwil had to go back to his former life – after he made sure the rest of Jack's long life was an eternity of hell. And Gwil will be cursed, just as badly as this young female ancestor of Ianto's that they had never met.

“Alright,” Jack grumbled, hand wiping over his face. “Let's go over it again.”

**

It was late – or more accurately, early – when Jack snuck aboard the TARDIS. Breath held, he peered around the central control room for any sign of the Doctor. Jack couldn't see him, but he knew better than to assume that meant the all-clear. He had a sneaking suspicion the Doctor never really slept, which meant it was very possible that Jack would run into him on this near suicide mission.

And it wasn't just the Doctor Jack had to look out for. He put a hand out and stroked at a railing as he walked soft steps up the stairs. Around him, he could feel the TARDIS pulsing, breathing, almost like a living thing. He could feel her shivering, too: like he was something creepy and crawly climbing around inside of her. According to the Doctor, that was just how he felt to the TARDIS. “Just a minute, old girl,” he whispered, stroking a panel as he stepped past it. “Then I'll be out of your hair again.”

Jack held his breath as he poked and prodded at the panels. He just needed a quick sonic to his wrist strap, then he could get out of the TARDIS and back to the eighteen hundreds. Ianto had already looked up in the Welsh record when his great-great-great &c. grandmother got pregnant – at least, as far as he could figure. The records were horribly spotty back then, especially considering Ianto's family had no connection whatsoever to any royalty in any shape or form, so it wasn't like anyone was paying them any close attention.

Stepping back from the panel with a frustrated sigh, Jack scrubbed a hand through his hair. No sonic screwdriver. It was a long shot: checking the TARDIS for a spare, or one the Doctor had left in the control panel. But Jack didn't really fancy trying to steal the sonic off the Doctor himself, or, even worse: letting Ianto tie the Doctor up until they had done what they needed to do in the past. The latter _was_ an option, according to Ianto, but Jack hoped it wouldn't come to that.

Just as he was turning to leave and admit defeat, Jack's foot bumped into something, causing it to skitter across the floor. Wincing at the sudden noise, Jack half-moved into a crouch, glancing around. After whatever it was stopped clattering, all that remained was a deafening silence. After a minute of this silence, Jack let himself move again, glancing around for whatever it was that had made such a noise. 

When his eyes finally alit on the object, Jack almost rubbed them in a caricature of disbelief. There, glimmering in all its cylindrical glory, lay the sonic screwdriver. 

Almost doubting it was real, but not willing to waste a single second on the off chance that it _was_ , Jack snatched the sonic off the ground and shoved it into his greatcoat pocket. Hurrying to the door as quickly as he could while still remaining silent, Jack took one last, precious second to stroke the wall of the TARDIS on his way out. “Thanks, girl,” he whispered, before stepping out.

Ianto was waiting for him on the outside, glancing furtively around the Hub for any Torchwood employee stragglers or early risers – or even worse, Gwil in a fit of exploratory curiosity. He nodded to Jack as he hurried out of the TARDIS, sonic clenched in one hand. As they rushed back to their rooms, Ianto eyed the sonic. “Are you sure you know how to use that thing?”

Jack waved him off. “Sure. Sonic technology was standard stuff when I come from. Had a sonic blaster on me when I first met him. Didn't like that. Replaced it with a banana.”

“I'm not going to ask.” They reached their kitchen, where Jack had laid out all the supplies he would need to fix his vortex manipulator, sans sonic screwdriver. With the last tool he needed in his possession, Jack could begin his work. “Are you sure you can fix it?” Ianto whispered, as if afraid of the answer.

Jack shrugged one shoulder as he sat down at their kitchen table and started to cut open the leather back of his manipulator with a penknife. “I think so. I wasn't as good at the technical stuff as some of the other students – John, for instance. But I should be able to manage. We all received basic maintenance training.”

Sliding into a seat across from Jack, Ianto huffed. “Good, because I'd rather not bring someone like John into this. He'd probably demand a threesome as payment.”

Jack laughed as he began to tinker with the vortex manipulator: flashing the sonic on it one second, stripping wires and re-soldering them the next. “Nah,” he mused as one of the charging indicators flicked on. Two more bits to go. “He'd want a stack of currency as payment. The threesome would be assumed.”

Another light on the vortex manipulator flickered on, while answering smiles ghosted across both men's faces. A minute later, and a great deal more fiddling on Jack's part, the vortex manipulator lit up a last time. Jack breathed in as the manipulator flared to life, humming in his hands. He imagined he could feel the swirl of the time stream as the manipulator sucked it in and prepared to change it.

“All set.” Jack looked up at Ianto, watching worry flit across the other man's face. Standing as he strapped the manipulator back onto his wrist, he gestured for Ianto. He stepped easily into Jack's embrace, pressing his face into Jack's neck as he breathed deep. 

“Be safe,” Ianto whispered. As Jack started to protest that he was always safe, Ianto shot him a _look_ , effectively silencing him. “You don't need to come to life without me there to help out,” Ianto chided. With a small sigh that Jack didn't miss, Ianto stepped out of Jack's arms and examined him from head to foot. He nodded at the manipulator. “Are you sure it's fixed?”

Jack shrugged, fiddling with some of the settings on it. “Seems to be. And all it needs to do is get me back there. If it breaks down after that, well: I can always live through the twentieth century. Not like I haven't done it a couple times before.”

Ianto's expression was sour, making Jack chuckle a bit to himself. “I'd rather not have you wait a hundred years to see me and Gwil again, if that's alright with you.”

Stepping forward to caress a hand through Ianto's hair, Jack smiled softly. “I'd rather not, either.” They kissed until worry over getting caught overrode their separation anxiety, and Jack pulled away. 

Reaching under the kitchen table, Ianto came up with a pre-packed rucksack for Jack. He knew what was inside without checking the contents, since he had helped Ianto pack it, but Jack checked through it one last time anyway. In it was the vial of Gwil's (artificially manufactured) sperm, along with an empty syringe for insemination, a filled syringe for knocking the poor girl out, and a small packet of retcon, for all incidentals along the way. Ianto had even gone through the trouble of packing Jack a late-eighteen hundreds emergency wallet, filled with cash and forged I.D.s and the like. Just in case.

As Jack closed the rucksack up and slung it over his shoulder, he turned back to Ianto, who was shifting slightly from foot to foot. Ianto hesitated, opening his mouth, then closing it, then finally opening it again. “Are you sure?” 

The question was almost a whisper, but Jack's response to it was immediate: he grabbed Ianto's hands and pulled them to his chest, squeezing tight. “You said you were willing to die for Gwil. Since I can't promise that as my end-all be-all, I'm promising this, Ianto: I'm willing to defy the Doctor, to steal his sonic, and to risk the entire time stream for our son. Because I  _do_ love him that much, Ianto: just as much as you do. And,” Jack blinked, eyes watering slightly as he watched Ianto's similarly filling with tears, “I love  _you_ that much, too.”

With one last, teary-eyed kiss, Ianto was pushing Jack away, wiping a hand over his face in an attempt to regain his composure. “Remember,” he said, as Jack started to punch in the proper coordinates into his vortex manipulator, “her name is Abigail Winters.” Ianto's voice dropped, hesitant. “She should be fourteen. But she'll look younger. Just like Gwil did.”

Jack nodded. “I know.” With one last flourish, Jack punched his thumb down onto his vortex manipulator, and was off.

**

When Jack returned to the present day, he felt nauseous. And he was pretty sure that nausea had little to do with the swirling of the time vortex as he went through it, and a great deal more to do with the fact that he had just impregnated a fourteen year old girl in eighteen fifty-seven, and then slipped her retcon so the whole experience would be forgotten.

Jack blanched. She hadn't looked old enough to have started her period. Hell, she hardly looked ten. And she was so _small_. It'd be a miracle if she survived childbirth – something Jack and Ianto could have found out, but decided not to. It'd be easier that way: just a little less guilt. 

“Jack.” 

Jack turned to the sound of Ianto's voice. Stepping from their kitchen to the atrium, Jack encountered one person more than he had expected. Ianto had his hands behind his back, and at first Jack thought he was just standing that way. But then what the Doctor nudged Ianto forward and he stumbled a bit, Jack suddenly realized that Ianto's arms were bound behind his back. If it weren't for the fact that Jack was sure it was the Doctor who had done this, he would have seen red.

“Jack.” The Doctor's tone was more clipped, more cold than Ianto's had been. Jack turned to the Doctor, holding out his arm with the vortex manipulator. 

“You can break it, again. I'm done.”

Without a word the Doctor flashed his – apparently recovered – sonic screwdriver at the manipulator, causing it to crackle and smoke as it broke. Jack stared down the Doctor for the whole procedure, while the Doctor stared right back.

The Doctor's head was tilted to the side as he examined Jack. He was angry, certainly. But Jack thought that just maybe he could see a thin layer of agreement beneath the Doctor's cool fury. “You and I,” the Doctor finally said, taking a step forward, “need to have a little chat.”   
  
  



	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor fumes, Jack defends them, Ianto broods, then does some research and testing to see if the whole crazy plan was worth it.

The three of them – the Doctor, Jack, and Ianto – sat in Jack and Ianto's kitchen as they waited for dawn to break. The Doctor had already made his displeasure with Jack quite clear, and now was sitting in sulky silence, staring down at the table and scratching at it with his thumbnail. Ianto had managed to get his restraints removed when he promised the Doctor he wouldn't do anything “So mind-boggingly idiotic again. Honestly. I can see Jack's terrible influence written all over this plan”. Ianto was using his new-found freedom of movement to flip through his laptop as he waited for Gwil to wake up. He hadn't looked up anything on Abigail Winters before he and Jack had executed their plan, for fear of what he might find. Now the guilt was eating away at him and he had to know.

Two birth certificates pinged on his computer: one son, born approximately nine months after Jack inseminated her. His name was Gareth Winters. A second son pinged on the computer: born two years later to an Abigail Davies, named Aeron Davies. Abigail's death certificate was dated the same day as her younger son's birth. The cause of death was childbirth.

Ianto swallowed hard, ignoring the sudden burst of argument that had broken out again between the Doctor and Jack.

“Don't pull the high-and-mighty card with _me_ , Doc. I've seen you wipe out whole races-”

“The _Daleks_ , Jack! Not innocent little girls-”

“And Gwenyth? She was just an innocent little girl.”

“I had no way of knowing-”

The records for the two little boys showed that they stayed with Abigail's mother until her death almost a decade later. After that the eldest, Gareth, made it into an apprenticeship in Cardiff to a fisherman with the last name Jones. An adoption certificate was filled out a year later, with young Gareth changing his last name. The youngest child, Aeron, was sent to work in a textile mill, just as his brother's time-traveling father had. There was a certificate of death not even a year later.

Ianto closed his laptop will a dull click, blinking hard. A knot of guilt was settled low into his stomach, as he had known it would be as soon as he had hatched this plan. He wasn't morally inculpable – the Doctor was absolutely right to accuse him and Jack of severe abuse of their power and technology. But it had been for Gwil. And Ianto wouldn't have changed a thing, if his plan had indeed worked and the timeline was secure for Gwil to remain here with them.

The Doctor and Jack were still shouting at each other.

“And the Slitheen woman?”

“That was more accidental-”

“And the Sontarans? Martha told us about them. You let that boy go to his death, to blow up an entire fleet.”

“They wouldn't have stopped otherwise-”

Ianto blinked again and lifted his head, listening to Jack's response.

“That's just what you do though, isn't it, Doctor? You just let others do your dirty work for you: the killing, the exploding, the sacrificing themselves. From what Amy's told me about this River woman, she's just another in a long line of people who will wield a gun in your stead, to keep you and the world safe. Face it, Doctor,” Jack leaned across the table, palms pressed flat on its surface, “sometimes you need people like Ianto and I to do what you can't.”

“But I wouldn't have done _this_!” the Doctor shouted, jumping out of his seat and spinning around. “If we couldn't have found a solution, I would have just popped the little bugger back into the eighteen hundreds! He survived it for seven years, I'm sure he would have been fine.”

“He's my _son_ ,” Jack shouted, standing up to stand toe-to-toe with the Doctor. “You can't just take him away, just like that!”

Before the Doctor could get another response out, a small cough drew the attention of the three men away from each other and to the hallway. Gwil was up, clutching his Woody doll to his chest. “Tad?” he queried. Automatically Ianto held his arms out and Gwil headed straight into them, snuggling close. 

“Time for school?” Ianto asked as he stroked Gwil's hair.

“Do I have to go?”

Ianto hesitated, looking between Jack and the Doctor.  _Tosh?_ he mouthed to Jack, who nodded. As Jack fumbled for his mobile, Ianto tugged Gwil from him and set about making breakfast. “We're going to ask Auntie Tosh about something, but if she says it's okay, you're going to school. You can't just skip when Torchwood stuff is happening.”

Gwil sighed, slouching in his chair. He fiddled miserably with his Woody doll, which he had sat on the edge of the table with its legs hanging off the edge. “I know,” he grumbled. “But bad Torchwood stuff is happening. I know it.” He fixed a glare on the Doctor. “You and Dad keep arguing about  _him_ . When are you going to leave?”

The Doctor blinked, taking a step back under the force of Gwil's upset. “I- er-” he glanced around at Jack and Ianto. “Soon. I need the results of Ms. Toshiko's tests.”

Ianto tapped Gwil's shoulder with a spatula, giving him a weak smile. “What do you say to pancakes? To make up for all the bad Torchwood stuff going on right now?” They hadn't told Gwil the full story of what was going on with him, not wanting to scare him. But he had obviously pieced together the general gist of what was going on: between the Doctor's tendency to shout out the problem in front of Gwil and his fathers' foul moods as they struggled for a solution, Ianto knew that Gwil had figured most of it out. But he had done so well trusting in his fathers and going about his daily school routines – Ianto was so proud of him.

Gwil perked up at the word pancakes. “Can they be dinosaur pancakes?” 

Ianto had already been reaching into a cabinet for their dinosaur shaped cookie cutters. “Of course,” he replied as he greased up the pan. 

As Ianto cooked Gwil his pancakes, he kept one ear open and listening for Jack's conversation on the phone with Tosh. After a few hushed explanations – Jack's hand cupped over the phone and walking casually out of the kitchen and into the atrium, presumably so Gwil wouldn't hear – Jack closed his phone with a snap and returned to Ianto. 

“Tosh says he can go to school. She can do all the tests she needs to without him. But she wants us to send him through the teleport.”

Without taking his eyes off the slowly cooking pancake batter in the frying pan, Ianto's attention shifted to the teleport sitting in their atrium. They hadn't let Gwil go through it since it unearthed all the problems with Gwil's presence in the future, instead taking turns driving him to school. Amy and Rory had even helped them on days when the Rift had taken over their attention in the morning or afternoon, using one of the many Torchwood cars and chauffeuring Gwil around. Ianto imagined the young couple was feeling guilty and next to useless as they waited around for the Doctor or Torchwood to find a solution to their problem. Either way, he was grateful for all the assistance they gave, and Gwil had warmed to them over the weeks.

“Right,” Ianto finally replied. Lips pressed tightly together at the thought of sending Gwil through the teleport once again, Ianto removed the cookie cutters from the pan and carefully flipped the dinosaur-shaped pancakes over. “Hear that, Gwil? You're going to school: go get dressed.”

Heaving a great sigh, Gwil stood and trudged back to his bedroom, Woody doll hanging by one arm and little booted feet dragging on the floor. 

By the time Ianto had the pancakes finished and a bowl of fruit set out on the table, Gwil was dressed in his school uniform and returning to the kitchen. The Doctor had quieted down into another sulk in the corner of their kitchen, back pressed to their counters as he frowned at Gwil. 

As Gwil sat down to munch on his breakfast, the Doctor pushed himself up from the counters and stalked forward. Instinctively Ianto put himself between the Doctor and Gwil, staring down the strange man with a sort of vehemence Ianto normally reserved for hostile aliens – which the Doctor essentially was. The Doctor rolled his eyes, pulling out his recovered sonic screwdriver and waggling it at Ianto. “I just wanted to scan him. See if time is still doing a discordant cha-cha around the boy's presence.”

Reluctantly Ianto stepped aside, pasting a fake but hopefully reassuring smile onto his face for Gwil. “He's just going to wave his device at you,” he said to his son, who was peering warily at the Doctor as he chewed his pancakes. “You shouldn't feel a thing.”

Eyes remaining trained on the Doctor and his glowing green device, Gwil nodded. With a quick swipe from Gwil's head to his toes, the Doctor pulled his sonic in and peered at the readings. When his frown deepened Ianto panicked, taking another protective step toward Gwil.

“Well the good-bad news is that your morally hideous actions seem to have done the trick. No more paradoxes emanating from the little one like bad smell off a kraken.” 

The knot of guilt in Ianto's stomach eased, just the slightest bit. “You think it worked, then?”

The Doctor snapped his sonic shut before tucking it into his inside jacket pocket. “Appears so. Congratulations: you get to keep one little boy in exchange for-” the Doctor stopped when both Ianto and Jack turned on him, stares equal parts angry and protective. With a hesitant glance in Gwil's direction, the Doctor adjusted his speech. “Well. You know what you did.”

Turning away from the Doctor, Ianto smiled down at Gwil and ran a hand through his hair. “Come on: you'll be late if you don't hurry up. Teeth, face, hair. Let's go.”

Shooting one last skeptical look at the Doctor, Gwil slid out of his chair and hurried off to the bathroom to follow his tad's orders. Turning back to the Doctor, Ianto stared him down cooly. “It was a morally hideous action. You're right.” When the Doctor started to smile at this acknowledgement of his correctness, Ianto turned away from him and headed for his bedroom, to get ready to face the day. “But I would do it all over again for him.”

The Doctor's indignant “ _Well._ ” managed to quirk Ianto's lips into something resembling a smile as he tried to figure out how he and Jack would explain their actions to the team.

**

At lunch Ianto found he couldn't bring himself to eat, no matter how delicious the chow mein smelled sitting at his workstation. Every time he looked at the food his stomach churned at the thought of eating it. He might as well eat worms, for how appealing good chinese sounded at the moment.

He couldn't stop clicking through the records he had glanced at this morning, reading and re-reading them, as if he could glean more of his family's history with each new read-through. It was a sad, terrible story, printed there in careful black and white. And he had been the main contributor to the small tragedy that was his family's story. Just so that he could keep one little boy with him.

The clack of heels over metal grating alerted him to Tosh's presence before she whispered a quiet “Hi,” behind him.

Resignedly he turned his chair around, not even bothering to force a smile onto his face. “Yes? Do you need something?” He was being rude, but Ianto figured he was allowed a day or so's indulgence. It wasn't everyday, after all, that someone ordered his fiance to sexually assault his great-great-great-great-great grandmother at the tender age of fourteen.

“I... after I ran all the tests...” Ianto nodded, wearily waiting for Tosh to continue. He had made sure she double and triple-checked all the readings from Gwil going through the teleport this morning. No blips, no problems with the Rift. It would appear that the paradox surrounding Gwil had been undone by his and Jack's actions.

“After I ran the tests, I decided to look something else up.”

Lifting a tired hand, Ianto waved at his computer screen. “I know all about it, Tosh. Are you here to remind me how terrible it is? How I ruined this poor girl's life, and indirectly led to her death and the death of her second child? How I orphaned my great-great-great-great grandfather, and sentenced his brother to a painful death from mill life?”

Tosh was shaking her head furiously, eyes gleaming wet as Ianto berated her. “No! No, Ianto: look.” Tosh leaned over him and clacked away at his keyboard. From what Ianto could tell, she was pulling up internet caches from days, weeks, months, and years before. “I knew that the records would all reflect what you did today, but look: the records going back _years_ ago were _also_ the same. The internet caches from two thousand six show the same exact records as the ones today.”

Ianto frowned. “But of course they would be. We rewrote history with what we did, which would include the internet caches.”

“ _Or_ ,” Tosh interjected, hopeful light in her eyes, “it means it had _always_ happened this way. That your great grandmother had always been impregnated by Jack, and that all this was supposed to happen.”

Ianto pressed a hand to his head. Time travel. He wasn't sure which explanation made more sense, or which one was preferable. His explanation made him morally culpable, but Tosh's explanation almost eliminated the idea of free will. He didn't think he liked either very much, but... “Thanks, Tosh,” he muttered, “but this was my decision. And Jack's. We still chose to do all this – timelines or not.”

With a shad shrug Tosh tucked her hair behind one ear. “I just thought I'd let you know. I thought it might help.”

Before he could reply that nothing would eliminate the guilt he felt over what he had done, what he had made Jack do, the pitter-patter of small feet over metal grating broke through his remorse. Gwil came scurrying in, rushing to Ianto as he fled Amy's outstretched arms. “You can't escape the tickle monster!” Amy laughed, wriggling her outstretched fingers at Gwil.

Jumping into Ianto's lap, Gwil shook his head viciously. “Base! You can't touch me! Base!”

Amy stomped her foot and snapped her fingers. “Darn!” Smiling, but trying to pull an upset face at the same time, Amy pressed her hands to her hips. “You've escaped my clutches this time, mister, but you better watch out! Because when you least expect it...” Amy let the threat dangle in the air for a moment, before throwing her hands out in front of her and wriggling her fingers madly. “Tickle tickle tickle tickle!”

Gwil laughed and squirmed as if Amy was really tickling him, writhing against Ianto's chest. In that moment, as Ianto brought his arms up around Gwil to hold him securely in place, a tiny bit more of the guilt in his stomach melted away. He might not have done exactly the right thing, and maybe there had been a better solution. But he still had Gwil, and Gwil still had the opportunity for a magnificent, wonderful life. There was very little – if anything – Ianto wasn't willing to do to make sure of that.    
  
  



	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a seven-year-old boy falls through the Rift, Ianto and Jack decide to adopt him. This is the story of his life at Torchwood. ****It's Gwil's eleventh birthday, and the Aunties are planning something.

Ianto was comfortably tucked under Jack's arm when a banging at their bedroom door awoke him. “Tad!”

Ianto groaned. Yes, he was excited for Gwil's eleventh birthday. Yes, it was a big deal. But he was also fairly certain it wasn't even dawn yet, and Jack was just so lovely and warm. Ianto rubbed his nose against Jack's side and tried to pretend like he didn't hear the knocking.

“Tad! All the Aunties say you have to get up!”

That successfully got Ianto's attention. More than a little miffed that he wasn't getting a lie-in – on his and Jack's scheduled day _off_ , even – Ianto lifted his head from Jack's comfortable side. “What?”

From behind the door, Gwil's voice piped up again. “All the Aunties! They said there's a special birthday surprise, and you and Dad have to get up and wear nice suits, and follow me.”

Ianto frowned. Whatever was going on, it wasn't good. Leaning down to brush a kiss against Jack's temple, Ianto patted his chest gently. “Jack: you'd better wake up. The women are planning something.”

Jack groaned and rolled over, wrapping his arm around Ianto's waist in an attempt to tug him back down into the pillows. “Nothing good ever came from womanfolk planning something. Stay in bed; maybe they'll go away.”

“Tad?”

With no lack of regret urging him to staying bed with Jack and sleep – and maybe shag – the morning away, Ianto untangled himself from Jack's grip and slid away. “Get your pants on,” Ianto chided as he slipped on a pair of boxers himself. Jack didn't move, so Ianto just made sure his arse was covered with the sheet before he padded over to their door.

When he opened it, Gwil was practically shivering with anticipation, already dressed up in the suit Ianto had bought Gwil for the wedding. It should have been to small on him, but Ianto noticed that _someone_ had taken down the hem he had made in the sleeves and trousers. Ianto narrowed his eyes. Whatever was going on took planning. “Why are you wearing that?”

Gwil smiled, looking down at his little suit. “Auntie Tosh fixed it for me so it'd fit. She told me to wear it today. And she said you and Dad need to wear your fancy suits, too.”

Ianto took that to mean his and Jack's wedding suits, which had sat, sadly abandoned, in the back of their closet for the past year. They hadn't the heart to plan another ceremony yet: not with the disaster the last one had brought to their doorstep. 

“Did the Aunties tell you _why_ we had to do all this?”

Gwil nodded his head, big grin on his face, but said nothing. Ianto's eyes narrowed further.

“Can you tell _me_ why we have to do all this?”

Gwil's giggle was furious as he covered his mouth with his hands. “No!” he panted around the giggles. “It's a surprise!”

In the bedroom behind him, Ianto could hear Jack starting to stir. He glanced over his shoulder toward the bed, where Jack was sitting up, looking ruffled and befuddled as he listened in on the conversation. Ianto's eyes trailed down Jack's bare chest. So much for his morning plans.

Trying a different tact, Ianto turned back to Gwil, hands resting on his hips. “But I thought you wanted to go to that fancy restaurant for dinner with Dad and me?” When Gwil appeared to remain resolute, Ianto continued. “And I thought we could go see the new superhero movie before that?”

Gwil's eyes lit up at the mention of the movie. He had been begging to see it for _ages_ , because he said all his friends were going to see it. But the PG-13 rating was giving Ianto pause, although he knew the swearing would be less than Gwil was exposed to by Owen, and the violence certainly less than Gwil had seen in his lifetime, between life at the mill and Torchwood. 

But Gwil shook his head. “The Aunties said we  _have_ to do this.” He glanced down at the watch on his wrist – a real analog one, which Gwil had oo'ed and ah'ed over until it showed up in his Christmas stocking this past year – and raised his eyebrows in a way that Ianto knew was reminiscent of himself. “And the Aunties said we all  _had_ to leave the house by eight o'clock! So you have to get going!”

Ianto sighed, running his hand through his hair. It looked like there would be no stopping the “Aunties” now that they had Gwil on their side. “Alright,” he grumbled. “Go get yourself breakfast. Dad and I will be out in a bit.”

When Jack made a pleased noise behind him, Gwil's eyes narrowed. “We  _have_ to be on time,” he reminded Ianto.

Ianto groaned. His own son was now trying to cockblock him. “We'll be on time,” he gritted out. Placing both hands on Gwil's shoulders, Ianto spun him around and pushed him toward the kitchen. “Get some breakfast.”

After he shut and locked the door, Jack was on Ianto's back a moment later, arms wrapping around him. “Quickie in the shower?”

Ianto grinned as Jack started to lave attention on his neck. “Of course. But let's hurry up, otherwise Gwil will call up the Aunties, and then we'll be in real trouble.”

Jack laughed. “Gwen would take the door off the hinges just to try and catch us in the act.”

Ianto considered this as he and Jack hurried off to the shower, boxers falling to the floor as they went. “Martha, too.”

**

Once the three of them had showered, dressed, and gotten some semblance of breakfast in them, they all piled into the SUV. Jack drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he looked back at Gwil. “Alright, champ: where to?”

Gwil's answer was immediate. “St. David's Spa.”

Ianto and Jack glanced at each other, but said nothing as Jack put the car in drive and pulled out of the Torchwood car park. “St. David's it is.”

“And Auntie Tosh said to use the valet thing.”

Ianto's eyebrows were going to fall off today if he kept quirking them at this rate. Jack just nodded. “Okay,” he drew out slowly. “We'll make sure to do that.”

When they reached the valet Ianto's curiosity only increased. They were greeted by a concierge, who knew their names and apparently where they were headed. Jack and Ianto could only follow, looking around the hotel and at a clearly exuberant Gwil as they walked down the halls. From the signs they were passing, and the few times Ianto had been there before, Ianto knew they were heading toward some reception halls located on the first floor. A suspicion grew in his mind, but Ianto stayed silent and waited.

When they entered the room the concierge indicated to them, they were immediately assaulted with crackers and streamers and confetti, as well as a chorus of “Surprise!”s filling the room. Peering through the falling paper debris, Ianto saw the entire Torchwood team there, as well as the Doctor and his merry band of wanderers. But what really got Ianto's attention was the stranger standing at the head of the room, holding a book and waiting patiently.

Jack was laughing as he picked streamers out of his hair. “Okay: surprise! But what's the surprise?”

Gwen bounced Braith in her arms as she grinned. “Surprise: you're getting married today!” Ianto and Jack could only gape at her as she continued. “After everything went wrong the last time, and when you two didn't seem like you were going to try again anytime soon, we thought we'd help you along!”

Even though he was touched by the gesture, Ianto turned to Gwil. “But it's your birthday,” he said. “I don't want to take all the attention away from you.”

Owen spoke up from where he was standing next to Tosh. Ianto noted that they had dressed to match: Owen in a lavender tie and Tosh in the same colored dress. Interesting. Owen threw his thumb out to gesture at Gwil. “I asked him what he wanted for his birthday a few weeks back. That sappy little bugger said he wanted you two blokes hitched. I made the mistake of telling Tosh, who thought it was the cutest thing ever,” Owen heaved a great sigh as Tosh cooed next to him. “So here we are.”

Jack pushed his way through the Torchwood crowd, his eyes trained on the Doctor. Ianto did his best not to look too irascible. “Doctor? What are you doing here?”

The Doctor sighed, throwing his head back and staring up at the ceiling for a second before Amy punched him – pretty hard, it looked like – on the arm. He made a face as he clutched his arm, rubbing it gently. “Martha got a message to me on the TARDIS. I wasn't going to come – figured your Jones lad might not want me, after what happened last time I showed up to your wedding.”

Ianto made an affirmative noise in his throat, but quieted when Martha shoved her shoulder teasingly against his.

The Doctor continued. “But then Amy and Rory just kept _nagging_ me and _nagging_ me until I finally agreed.” He glared at Amy, then Rory. “Like having a wife on board.”

Amy snickered. “Already got one of those. Wouldn't want to get in her way.” Jack's eyes widened, while the Doctor threw his head back to stare at the ceiling again. Amy winked at Jack and lightly punched him in the arm. “I'll tell you all about it later,” she promised.

Behind him, Ianto heard a familiar voice ring out.

“Lap of luxury, this is. Really went all-out for the second go around, huh?”

Ianto's eyes widened as he spun around, eyes landing on his brother-in-law first, who was whistling as he took in the hotel. Andy was standing with the Davies family, smiling at the room. “Got them!” he announced proudly. “Sorry we were a bit late.”

Rhiannon rushed forward to Ianto, enveloping him in a hug. “David ended up splitting his trousers on the way to the car when he got into a fight with the Murphy boy.”

Ianto took this information in stride, hugging his sister back. “I'm so glad you could make it,” he said, pulling back. “Even if I didn't know about this until five minutes ago.”

Johnny laughed, stepping forward and slapping Ianto manfully on his arm as Rhiannon stepped back. “Yeah, right mad, isn't it? Who ever heard of a surprise wedding?”

Mickey laughed, turning to Jack. “Oi, didn't you almost get tricked into one of those, once?”

The Doctor's face lit up as Jack stepped quickly away and over to Ianto, sliding an arm around him. “Not the best wedding-day story,” Jack cautioned. Ianto just heaved a long-suffering sigh.

At the front of the room, the man Ianto assumed was the registrar cleared his throat before speaking. “If everyone's here now, we could begin?”

Ianto turned to Jack as everyone took their places. “Are we ready, then?”

Jack grinned back. “I've been ready to marry you for a long time, Ianto Jones.”

The first time they had tried to get married, Ianto had swore to himself that he wouldn't do something as embarrassing as cry. He was already about to break that vow here at the second go around. Next to them, Rhys passed Gwil the rings Jack and Ianto had picked out a year ago, before grabbing his seat and giving them a thumbs up. Taking a moment to control himself, Ianto adjusted Jack's tie and jacket, smoothing down the lapels with shaky hands.

“No jitters, right?” Jack teased.

Ianto shook his head. “Never with you.”

**

More confetti and streamers flew through the air as crackers popped and shouts went up in the room. Ianto pulled away from his kiss with Jack, blinking tears from his eyes. Jack was just as badly off, so Ianto didn't feel quite so embarrassed about it. Meanwhile, his big sister was bawling enough into Johnny's shirt for the two of them.

They walked down the aisle, clasping their friends and family's hands as they went. The Doctor was at the end, shaking Jack's hand vigorously before saying something to him that Ianto didn't catch. Then he turned and extended his hand to Ianto. “Mr. Jones,” he said, all amused formality.

Ianto took the hand and shook it briefly. “Doctor.”

The Doctor waited a beat, watching Ianto and Jack with a curious expression. Finally he turned to Ianto and said, with a small smile: “Keep him out of trouble for me, would you?”

Ianto nodded. “I'll do my best.”

“I'm sure you will.” With something almost resembling a grin, the Doctor spun around and gestured for his companions. “Come on!” he shouted. “There's a plasma volcano exploding in the Andromeda galaxy, and I _know_ I haven't shown you two one of those, yet.”

Amy and Rory stopped long enough to shake Jack and Ianto's hands and offer their congratulations before rushing off after the Doctor. 

Ianto glanced at Jack as they headed down the hall to the dancehall Tosh had booked for the wedding reception. “What did he say?”

Jack smiled, and instantly Ianto was reassured. He wasn't sure what he thought the Doctor had said to Jack, but he had feared it was something that would draw Jack away from him. Judging by Jack's contented, loving smile, that wasn't the case. “He said if we ever wanted a honeymoon, he'd give us a quick lift.”

Ianto snorted. “I get enough running for my life courtesy Torchwood, thanks.”

As they entered the reception hall, Jack leaned closer to Ianto, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as he pressed his lips to Ianto's ear. “And he said Gwil's welcome to join him when he's old enough.” A cold jolt of fear went through Ianto at that, but then Jack was chuckling and rubbing his nose against a spot just behind Ianto's ear. “I told him you'd track him down to the end of the universe if that ever happened.”

“Damn right,” Ianto grumbled. 

**

Ianto lolled against Jack, too much good champagne making his head feel light and his entire body warm and happy. Then again, all those sensations could also be attributed to that fact that he just married the man he loved. That was a pretty powerful drug in it of itself. 

“About ready to get going?” Jack's voice was soft, his lips brushing against Ianto's hair as he spoke.

Pulling himself upright, Ianto glanced around the dancehall. Their guests were beginning to look as footsore as he was, and Gwil had run out of crackers to pop ages ago. Now he was watching Gwen rock the baby, but seeing as Braith was sleeping, Gwil was starting to grow bored with that, too. 

Jack and Ianto stood together, gesturing for Gwil. “Time to get home, champ.” Jack said.

Andy and Rhys blocked their progress, grinning at each other like they were the most crafty Welshman in existence. “Hold on there, you two,” Rhys said. “The Torchwood folks've got something for you.”

Extending out an envelope to Jack, Andy continued to smile in a manner that was sure to have his cheeks falling off soon, if he wasn't careful. “Everyone on the team pitched in, and we got the happy couple a honeymoon, of sorts.” Ianto opened the envelope as Andy spoke, reading through what appeared to be hotel reservations and two room keys. “We booked you the Executive Master Suite for four days.”

Martha broke in, waving her hands enthusiastically at the envelope. “Plus all the spa packages and beauty packages and... well, everything!”

Tosh came forward next. “And we're all on duty the next four days, to make sure you'll have time to enjoy the full experience and won't get called away for an emergency.”

Ianto's throat constricted, not sure how to react in the face of all this generosity. “I...” he glanced around the room, at the family and friends he had accrued in his time at Torchwood. He had always thought it would go the opposite way: Torchwood would slowly whittle away at those he loved, until it took Ianto himself. But somehow, Providence or sheer dumb luck had only caused Ianto's circle of loved ones to grow over the years. “Thank you,” he breathed. Bringing himself back under some semblance of control, and unsubtly wiping at his eyes, he nodded over at Gwil. “But what about Gwil? It's still his birthday, and who's going to look after him for the next four days?”

Rhys waved a hand, nodding proudly. “No worries: we're taking him.”

As much as he wanted to accept the present gratefully, Ianto had to make sure everything was sorted. He turned to Gwil, who was watching the proceedings from his seat next to Gwen. “Is that okay? Are you sure you want to stay with Auntie Gwen and Uncle Rhys on your birthday?”

Gwil nodded enthusiastically. “Uncle Rhys is taking me to the movies!”

Rhys winced. “Your son drives a hard bargain. I had to promise it.”

Ianto sighed. So much for trying to monitor what Gwil saw in theatres. “Are you sure?” he asked Gwil again. “It's for four days, you know.”

Gwil nodded, already looking away from Ianto and at Braith. She was beginning to wake up again, and was sleepily grabbing at the fingers Gwil was wriggling in her face. “It's okay. Braith's loads more fun now that she can walk and throw things and stuff. And Auntie Gwen promised to show me loads of princess movies.”

Owen and Jack both snorted loudly before Ianto had the foresight to jab Jack in the ribs. He nodded at Gwil in acquiescence. “If you're sure.” 

“He's sure!” Rhys started maneuvering Ianto and Jack to the exit as the rest of the wedding guests cheered and clapped. “Now get going, you two, and enjoy the suite!”

Mickey laughed uproariously and said something about them doing nothing  _but_ enjoying the suite, and then Jack and Ianto were shoved into the elevators, room key in hand and doors sliding shut in front of them. 

Ianto turned to Jack, too stunned for words. Luckily Jack chose that moment to drag him into a kiss, wrapping Ianto up in his arms and squeezing his close. When they pulled apart Ianto was breathless, though if it was from the whirlwind wedding, or present, or Jack's kiss, he couldn't say.

Then Jack said one word, and Ianto felt himself melt into his arms, all other concerns or worries or anxieties about any troubles possible in this world or another falling away: “Husband.”  
  
  



	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the last day of their honeymoon, Jack and Ianto enjoy one more quiet moment together.

Ianto awoke to the sound of Jack groaning and the feel of the mattress shifting beneath him as Jack feebly tried to sit up. There was a minute of mumbled expletives and more groaning, before Jack finally managed to get out of bed, the mattress abruptly dropping lower on Ianto's side of the bed.

Subtly, hoping Jack wouldn't notice, Ianto peered out from under the covers and watched Jack limp over to the bathroom. Ianto grinned.

Ianto listened to the toilet flush and tap turn on, then off, before the bathroom light flicked back off and Jack came limping back out. When he caught sight of Ianto watching him from his three thousand thread count cocoon, Jack started exaggerating his limp and clutching his backside piteously. “You've ruined me!” he groaned as he made his way to Ianto's side of the bed. “Fucked out! Done!” Ianto grinned as Jack climbed on top of him, chin settling down on Ianto's chest. “Now I know why the sex stops once couples get married: I don't think my anus will ever be capable of withstanding your penis again.”

Ianto snorted, untangling one hand from the sheets so he could smack Jack on the back of his head. Jack mouthed _ow_ as Ianto spoke. “I seem to recall a refrain of 'more, more, Ianto, more' last night.”

Jack's grin was blinding. “That's because I can never get enough of you.”

Ianto scrunched his nose up in disgust. “Now I know why Mickey calls you 'Captain Cheese'.”

“You love it,” Jack fired back.

Both men's smiles softened at Jack's words. “Yeah,” Ianto whispered. “I guess I do.” The kiss was long and languorous – neither man could muster the energy to be rushed or fierce, not after the last four days. When they pulled away Ianto finally allowed Jack an iota of sympathy, reaching his hand back to caress Jack's well-used arse. “I didn't even think you could get sore,” he mused.

Wincing as he slid off Ianto to settle next to him, Jack shrugged. “Neither did I. I suppose we must have done something really, really right.”

Ianto frowned. “Or really, really wrong. I suppose last night must have been too much. We should have stopped with the two dildos filled with hot wax. Adding my own girth into the mix was probably too much.”

Jack's arm slipped over Ianto's chest as he drew them closer together. Ianto went willingly, cuddling up to Jack's chest with a soft sigh. Jack stroked Ianto's hair absently as he spoke. “It wouldn't have been any fun without you in me, too.”

“Then maybe we should have used one less dildo,” Ianto retorted.

“Then it would have been just like any old night, instead of the last night of our honeymoon.”

Realizing that the sun was a bit bright coming through their suite's window, Ianto tugged his arm from between his and Jack's bodies and checked his watch. Check out was at eleven... but it was only just gone eight, as of yet. Plenty of time.

Snaking his hand back down between them, Ianto palmed Jack's cock. With almost Pavlovian responsiveness it began to swell to his touch. “Hold that thought,” Ianto murmured, giving Jack's penis a quick pat. He then rolled out of bed and headed to the bathroom to take care of his own morning business. 

Jack's raised voice reached Ianto as he was flushing the toilet. “I can pick up Gwil from Gwen and Rhys' this afternoon,” he offered. “You've got to go through all my messages before I do anything, anyway.”

Returning to bed, Ianto nodded. “Alright. I'll make sure everything you need is in order by the time you get back to the Hub. Now,” sliding under the sheets, Ianto reached for Jack's penis again. It started to grow more turgid almost immediately. “Where were we?”

Jack's grin was all shining white teeth as he pushed into Ianto's hand. Fumbling with the sheets for a moment, Jack's hand eventually found its way under the covers and to Ianto's own stirring erection. Ianto let his hips thrust minutely into the warm fist for a moment before stopping his own movements and looking around the bed. Jack made a disgruntled noise, but released Ianto as he looked around.

“I'm just looking for-” Ianto frowned as he pushed the sheets around, lifting the pillows and glancing over the side of the bed.

Making an affirmative noise, Jack joined him in his search. A moment later Jack was reaching over his side of the bed with a triumphant shout. “Ah! Found it!” He came back up with a well-used bottle of lubricant in his hand.

Ianto held out his palm and let Jack pour a generous dollop into the center. After Jack did the same for himself, the bottle was once again abandoned over the side of the bed as the two men reached under the sheets a second time.

Ianto groaned as Jack's slick hand wrapped around him, warming rapidly as he began to jerk Ianto in a steady rhythm. “I think I might love you for introducing me to the warming lubricant,” Ianto sighed.

Jack's eyes fluttered open as he continued to gently stroke Ianto, his own hips fucking into Ianto's hand at the same pace. “And here I was thinking you loved me for my winning personality.”

Jack's hand broke rhythm for just a moment to squeeze teasingly at the base of Ianto's erection, fingers pinching at his balls in reproach. Ianto gasped, then groaned as Jack swiped his thumb over the slit the next second in apology. “You may have a few other attractive qualities about you, besides just your taste in lube,” Ianto conceded.

The sounds of their hands slapping over skin was only barely muffled by the sheets. Soon that sound was joined by their ragged breathing as their hands moved faster, their arousals spiking slowly in the early morning. Ianto shifted closer to Jack, who immediately threw his leg over Ianto's as they both continued to stroke. Leaning in, Ianto pressed a lazy kiss to Jack's lips, groaning as Jack's tongue slipped inside his mouth. Their tongues stroked over each other just as lazily as their hands, and just as wetly. 

“Mm, Jack.” Ianto broke the kiss with a moan, hips juddering as Jack increased the pace. “'s good.” Jack's breath was hot on Ianto's cheek as he murmured his agreement. 

Ianto came first, hips twitching weakly as he spilled into Jack's hand. He kept stroking until Jack came a moment later, groaning in an entirely sated and perfectly exhausted sort of way. They didn't move more than to wipe their hands on the sheets and wrap their arms around each other as they basked in their mutual post-coital glows.

Ianto was just considering drifting off for another half hour when Jack's lips moved against his hair. “I was thinking-”

“Mustn't do that.”

Jack's shove was more like a hug than anything malicious. Ianto's lips quirked against Jack's collarbone. “Cheeky. I was thinking maybe we should move out of the Hub, into the house we're pretending to live in. It'd save us from having to use the teleport again, and I know you were worrying about that with school coming up.”

Pulling away from Jack's chest, Ianto positioned himself far enough away that he could look Jack in the eye. “But the Hub's your home. It's been your home for centuries.”

Jack shrugged one shoulder. “I just figured now that we're married, I should stop being half-committed to you and Gwil. Making you both live in the Hub with me is just... it's not a real home, is it?”

Sighing softly, Ianto pressed his hand to Jack's chest and stroked. “You don't have to do that. We've made it a home.”

“But I want to be a real family with you.” Ianto's breath caught in his throat at Jack's earnestness. Even after all the years they had between them, even after raising a son together and defying the Doctor and getting married, Jack could still move Ianto with proclamations of his commitment like that. “Besides,” Jack quirked a sad grin, “the Hub'll still be there... later. If I ever want to go back.”

Ianto's heart clenched at the heartbroken look on Jack's face as he brought up Ianto and Gwil's mortality, even in such a roundabout fashion. 

“Come on.” Jack nudged at Ianto's hip with his own, casual smile so obviously not as he tried to lighten the mood. “I want the whole normal twenty-first century married experience: commuting to work, seeing the little one off to school, sharing baking tips with the other wives-”

“-driving to the Hub in the middle of the night to stop an alien invasion, missing Gwil's school plays because the ambassador of Alpha Centauri Three's seventh moon is in town,” Ianto added for him. “'Normal' doesn't exactly fit us well.”

“Just think about it?”

Ianto sighed, tracing his fingers around Jack's nipple as he considered. “I'll think about it,” he finally agreed.

“It'll be safer, too,” Jack added. “For Gwil. This way he doesn't have to stay huddled in his room when the Rift alert is going off, or we don't have to worry when an alien virus gets loose in the Hub, or Janet escapes.”

Sighing, Ianto leaned in to press a kiss to Jack's collarbone. “I said I'd think about it,” he grumbled. “Now can't I enjoy the last couple hours of our honeymoon in peace?”

Jack's chuckle rumbled through his chest and into Ianto as the two men snuggled close again, bodies moving gently against each other with the rise and fall of their chests as they breathed. 

Just as Ianto started to drift off a second time, Jack's fingers tapped on his back. “Shower sex before we leave?”

Ianto hummed. “Your arse isn't up to it. And neither is mine. Could we settle for a shower blowjob?”

“Shower rimming?” Jack countered. “Soothe those aching arses of ours.”

“We'll see.” Jack's lips pressed to Ianto's hair as he finally stopped talking, and let Ianto nap for just a few minutes more as their honeymoon drew to a close.   
  
  
  
  



End file.
